


Reignite

by badlifechoices



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, EDI lives, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Post Destroy Ending, Reunions, and the geth, bit of a fix-it maybe, so do most of the others
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-21
Updated: 2016-08-21
Packaged: 2018-08-10 04:08:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 35,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7829863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badlifechoices/pseuds/badlifechoices
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was something more important though and her fingers were trembling, when she called up the Normandy’s data. For a second she hesitated, almost embarrassingly anxious, then she swallowed thickly and hailed the ship.</p><p>Nothing. Silence answered her and then after a few heart-wrenchingly long seconds the screen flickered red to announce that the attempt to establish a connection had failed. She sunk back into the pillows, staring numbly at the words that were burning themselves into her brain. Of course. What else had she expected? It didn’t mean that the Normandy had been destroyed, she reminded herself, fighting off the fear threatening to take over her mind. Taking a deep breath, she rubbed her suspiciously wet eyes and pulled up a different window to type out a message instead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reignite

_I will never surrender_  
_We'll free the Earth and sky_  
_Crush my heart into embers_  
_And I will reignite_

 

Darkness. She was surrounded by complete darkness. Strange, she thought, she’d expected a blinding white light, maybe that strange feeling of floating aimlessly that had embraced her when she’d died over Alchera. This was different, the darkness wasn’t light, not warm and welcoming. It was heavy, bearing down on her shoulders and pressing into her ears. She struggled, fought to move, willed her mind to focus. And then suddenly she could breathe. Air shuddered past her lips as she drew in her first breath, filling her lungs with sorely needed air. Dizziness overcame her and then pain. Hot, burning agony flooded her body, seemed to fill her up until she felt she was about to burst. Her lips, dry and numb opened but the scream that was welling up in her chest didn’t break free. Instead she found herself coughing, pain tearing at her throat, her vocal chords abandoning her. She tried to focus on breathing, in and out, in and out. She counted, not the seconds or anything in particularly, simply to fill her mind with numbers the way she had done it so often when a mission had gone awry.

She made it to one thousand before she dared to open her eyes. Stars. There were so many stars, blinking and comforting her with their light. _She was alive._ The realisation hit her like a thanix cannon, causing her breath to falter and her heart to jump in her chest. She was alive! Conflicting emotions churned in her head, relief and something else she couldn’t identify. She should be overjoyed to have survived. But with exhaustion clinging to her bones she couldn’t bring up the energy to even think about what that meant. They won, that much she knew and the thought filled her with a gentle warmth. They made it, everything they did paid off. All those lives lost, the sacrifices, they weren’t for nothing in the end.

Earth. Earth was saved. She tried to turn her head, despite the pain climbing up her spine. She wanted to see earth, the planet she’d fought to save. But the view was blocked by debris and she found herself once more staring into space. She should move, should try to contact the fleet for evac but her limbs wouldn’t obey her commands. Maybe she would die after all, she’d been prepared for that, had been certain that this time there would be no miracle to help her survive this suicide mission. But at least now she would die knowing that she’d done it. The galaxy had a future now, one without the reapers and that was enough to make a wonderful calm spread through her chest. It numbed the pain, blocked out the dark thoughts lingering at the edge of her mind. Her lips pulled into a gentle smile, one that so few people had seen on her features. She closed her eyes, letting that calm envelop her like a blanket. Garrus, she thought and she prayed to anyone who was listening that he was safe. The Normandy would’ve left the vicinity to meet up with the rest of the fleet at the rendezvous point. Shepard assured herself that they would be alright. The ship was fast and Joker was the most capable pilot she’d ever met. If he couldn’t get the others to safety, no one could.

The numbness crept up on her mind and she took a deep breath. It’s okay, she reminded herself, this is a good way to go.

The cracking of her comm had her flinch, instincts kicking in before her mind could really catch up with what was happening. Her fingers fought against the crippling weakness that had taken over her body, brushing against the metal to find the sensor that would activate the comm. She hardly recognised her own voice, broken and rough when she forced her vocal chords to work. “Hello? Is- is there anyone on this frequency?” The strain of speaking was enough to have her breathing heavily once more, forced another cough past her lips that filled her mouth with the metallic taste of blood.

“Yes?” The voice was unfamiliar but she immediately recognised the dual-tones that identified the other as a Turian. There was chatter in the background, a mess of voices echoing through the comm and making her head spin with confusion. “Life sign on the scanner, Sir.” “Is that her?” “Spirits, it’s her!” “Get me a shuttle immediately!” “Sir, the shuttle bay has been damaged.” “I don’t care what it takes we can’t just leave her there!”

Shepard groaned, brows knitting together as she tried to follow the conversation through the haze that clouded her mind. Her temples were pounding with a headache and sickness churned in her stomach. She swallowed down the sickness, when the Turian on the other end of the connection addressed her once more. “Hold on, Commander. I have a shuttle en route to your location, we’re getting you out of there. Just a bit longer.”

She nodded weakly in return, only realising that the other couldn’t possibly see it, when their concerned voice cut through the rushing blood in her ears. “Commander? Commander are you still there?”

“Yeah.” She croaked, fighting off the exhaustion threatening to overwhelm her. “Alive and kicking, more or less.” But the humour of her words was lost when her voice broke halfway through the sentence. For the first time ever since she’d woken up, she felt fear slither through the cracks of her consciousness. It was as though her mind had jumped on the possibility of being saved, of actually making it off the remains of the Citadel alive. She didn’t want to die, not when she was so close to making it. The dread had her heart beating against her ribcage like a bird trying to break free, breath unregularly rattling past her lips.

“Commander Shepard!” The Turian’s voice seemed strangely faint, unable to cut through the thick fog settling around her. Her hand fell away from her helmet, fingers curled into a weak imitation of a fist. “Hang on Commander, the shuttle is nearing your location!”

Alright, she wanted to reply but there were no words left on her tongue. Shepard tried to open her eyes, to spot that shuttle that would mean her salvation but her eyelids were as heavy as lead. There was a familiar noise, engines, her mind supplied but no relief filling her mind. Her breathing grew shallow once more and she felt the same heavy darkness embracing her. _I’m sorry, Garrus. I guess I’ll be waiting for you at that bar._

 

When she awoke next the cold was gone. She was surrounded by a blinding, white light and for a second she thought that that was it. But then she felt a faint pain creep up her limbs. Dead people weren’t supposed to feel pain, right? Her brows furrowed and she blinked, once, twice, forcing her eyes to adjust to the light. She could make out a high ceiling, lamps giving off a familiar, artificial light that reminded her a little bit of the Normandy. The thought calmed her, a sigh escaped her lips as her mind wandered back to her ship, her home.

A voice tore her from her thoughts: “Commander, you’re awake.” She turned her head and immediately regretted it, when her vision began to blur again. Sedatives, she thought, holding as still as possible until the dizziness faded. A Turian came in sight, a doctor, from the looks of their uniform. She didn’t recognise this one either, though she’d seen the purple colony marks that adorned their face before. The doctor’s face was pulled into an expression that she knew as one of concern, though there seemed to be something else. Relief maybe? “Don’t strain yourself,” they hurried to add when Shepard tried to reply but found her voice giving out on her.

So she only nodded, hoping that the other could read the questions off her face. “Don’t worry, Commander, I am sure you will make a full recovery,” the doctor said, not realising that she had much more pressing concerns on her mind. Shepard needed to know about the state of the fleet, about the casualties, about how much they had been able to save. And most importantly she needed to know about the Normandy. Knowing that she would recover didn’t put her mind at ease as much as knowing that her allies, her friends were still alive. The doctor however kept going on about her condition instead. “You suffered extensive injuries, both from the fight and the explosion. It would be easier to name the bones that were not broken or fractured. When we found you, you were suffering from internal bleeding and I was quite worried about the blow you took to the head.” He picked up a datapad and scrolled through what was probably a report on her physical state. “Now we managed to patch up most of this but it will take a while for everything to heal. Now what’s concerning me is the damage to your implants. The Crucible seemed to target everything synthetic and as much of your body relies on the implants I wasn’t sure if we could save you.” The Turian hesitated for a little moment and Shepard found herself frowning once more. It was true, Joker had often joked about how she was more machine than human at this point but she hadn’t thought her implants failing would be this critical. “We repaired what we could but it was barely enough to keep you alive. The Alliance has been contacted and they promised to find someone who is specialised on these kind of implants but I can’t promise you that it will ever be the same as it was before. Honestly, I’m surprised the implants lasted as long as they did without failing completely, it’s impressive.”

Cerberus, Shepard thought bitterly, they sure knew their tech. The thought that it was once more the Illusive Man who had saved her life, albeit unwillingly, left a stale aftertaste on her tongue. Her head was spinning, thoughts racing as she tried to take in all that had been said. Finally, she decided to simply push it to the back of her head. She still had enough time to worry about that, there were more important things to focus on now. She swallowed thickly and forced her tongue to form the words that had been burning in her throat. “The others?”

The doctor blinked, mandibles flaring in surprise as though they hadn’t expected this question. “The fleets took heavy losses in the fight before the Crucible was activated. The Mass Relays are no longer functional and communication is difficult. We didn’t make it through the relay in time before it collapsed, which is a good thing when you think about it because like this we were able to pick you up, so we’re still headed for the rendezvous point.” Shepard’s eyes widened at the news and this time the doctor picked the words off her lips before she could force them out. “We haven’t had any news of the Normandy yet but she wasn’t in the Sol system anymore when we left. It seems they made it out in time.”

This time she breathed in relief, letting her head sink back into the pillow. Sure, there was no way to be sure until contact with the Normandy was established but she was certain now that they were alright. The thought soothed some of the worry eating away at her heart and she felt herself once more overcome with tiredness. Glancing at her vitals, the Turian rested a three-fingered hand on her shoulder. “You should rest. It will most likely take us weeks to even get to the next star system. There is no need for hurry now.”

She hummed in response, letting her eyes fall shut once more. Maybe it was simply her imagination but she thought she heard the Turian mumble: “You’ve done enough, Commander.”

 

Shepard thought she was going insane. After only three days of lying around doing nothing but chew on energy bars or chug down the disgusting nutrient paste that was apparently the only levo rations on board. One of the Engineers had promised to fix her omni-tool that had been fried in Crucible blast but according to her last report it would take another few days until it could be used again. The doctor was busy with other patients, mostly Turians and though they were rather friendly, they didn’t make for a particularly good conversation partner. So she was left with nothing but her thoughts and the talks with the ship’s Captain every now and then. She settled for sleeping, trying to escape the dark corners her mind would take her to whenever she actually started thinking. But she could only sleep for so long and when she was awake she felt even more restless, fingers itching to do something, anything. She wished she still had her weapons, simply because the act of disassembling and reassembling to clean them would keep her hands busy. But they were lost, somewhere in the streets of London, probably buried under rubble.

On the fourth day she convinced the doctor to let her leave the bed. Apparently Shepard’s anxiousness was obvious enough to make the Turian cave, so he sent for a pair of crutches and ordered one of the lower ranking soldiers to stay at her side while she made her way through the ship. The pace was painstakingly slow and she had to bite her teeth together against the pain every simple movement seemed to send through her system. If the doctor had mentioned the extensive damage to her implants, she hadn’t thought it would be this bad. Mostly she hadn’t even known just how much of her body relied on those parts to function, though she had been wondering after hearing the audio logs at the Cerberus base about just how bad her condition had been after Alchera. But now, with every step being a fight against her complaining muscles and joints, she realised just how much tech Cerberus had used for her reconstruction.

The Turian soldier didn’t complain about having to escort her around the ship and she was grateful for it. The cruiser had taken some damage in the fight against the reapers but seemed to have escaped in a better condition than most other vessels. According to the Engineer who was working on her omni-tool, the engines had taken the worst hit, resulting in the ship’s inability to make it to the mass relay in time. She should be grateful for it, she thought because it also resulted in her rescue from the remains of the Citadel. “Have you heard any news from Palaven yet?” She asked, when the silence between them stretched out too long.

It seemed to have been the wrong question though because the soldier only lowered their head, mandibles fluttering meekly. “Nothing. The reapers have been destroyed but we don’t know how many we’ve lost. Apparently most comm buoys have been destroyed along with the relays.”

Shepard nodded quietly, not knowing what else to say except for: “I’m sorry.”

The other shook his head in return. “You have nothing to apologise for, Commander. It’s thanks to you that we were able to stop the Reapers at all, you’re a hero.”

She sighed. Hero, so many had called her that and she still didn’t seem to get along with the title. “I’m just a soldier like you.” She couldn’t think of herself as anything else, anything _more_ than that. She was a soldier, had been a soldier since she left Mindoir. There were others who deserved to be called heroes, Anderson… The thought made her bite her lips. Anderson and Mordin, Thane, Legion, Ashley. They all had deserved so much better and Shepard knew that if she could she would readily swap places with them. She swallowed down the tears threatening to spill. There would be time to grieve but it wasn’t now. She wasn’t sure when the time would come that she could take a break and just let herself mourn all those she had lost in this war but for now she had to keep fighting, although it was an entirely different battle. They had to find the rest of the fleet, find the Normandy and then they would have to start rebuilding.

“Not to most people. You saved all of us, it’s a debt no one can ever repay.”

Shepard huffed out a breath, having heard that line before. In her opinion there was no debt. Without these people, without the Turians and the Quarians, the Asari and Krogan and all the others who had heeded her call and joint the fight, they wouldn’t have made it. It was as much their victory as it was hers. “You could repay me by getting me a deck of cards and someone to play with. I feel like I lose my mind if I spend one more day lying around doing nothing.”

The Turian gave her an amused look, the hum of his subvocals reassuring her that she’d said the right thing this time though as always the actual meaning was lost on her. “I’ll see what I can find.”

She nodded, leaning on her crutches to give him a thumbs-up. The gesture seemed to confuse the other but he didn’t comment on it, simply pointed at one of the sliding doors and explained: “Upper crew quarters.” She nodded and they continued their tour around the ship in companionable silence, only interrupted by the short explanations here and there.

 

She’d already settled in once more, shovelling down the rest of the disgusting nutrient paste that someone had apparently tried to spice to make it appear more edible, when the door of the medbay slid open. Looking up she found the same Turian soldier from before giving her a wave and her face brightened when she saw what he was holding in his hand. “You’re my savior.” She confessed when the Turian pulled up a chair and sat down next to her bed. The soldier only hummed and watched her with obvious awe as she quickly shuffled the cards. With the intense way he was watching her fingers move, she couldn’t help showing off a little, presenting the tricks she’d picked up in the many hours spent with comrades on surveillance missions.

It turned out that Turian card games differed a lot from human ones but she caught up quickly enough, though it was hard to get used to the multitude of symbols used on the cards at first. It was a welcome change of pace however and she found that she was disappointed when the doctor approached them to remind her that she had to get a lot of rest to give her body time to heal. The Turian promised to return the next day and she told him to better not forget it. It was only when the medbay was once more filled with silence apart from the humming instruments that she realised how exhausting the day had been. The little exercise had been enough to leave her muscles sore and aching. At least it seemed that the nightmares had decided to give her a break and when she woke up after a few hours of uninterrupted sleep she felt refreshed for the first time in months.

 

She found something akin to a rhythm the next days. In the morning she would heave herself out of bed to walk around the ship, usually with the same soldier – Quintus, as he’d introduced himself to her. Then she’d head back to the medbay for a nap. One of the other crewmembers had handed her a datapad containing an extensive library of mostly light novels and adventure stories. The Turian style of writing was strange and there was a multitude of words her translator apparently couldn’t pick up but it entertained her for long enough until Quintus would return with the deck of cards. After two weeks he invited her to the crew quarters for a game instead and she was all too happy to escape the watchful eyes of the doctor. Quintus introduced him to some of the other soldiers: Varus, Aelia, Cassia and Celsus. The latter was the only one who dared to take her outstretched hand immediately, greeting her warmly while the others regarded her with something along the lines of sceptical admiration. It was a tad unnerving but she was used to it. They seemed to warm up to her quickly after Quintus announced that the others would join them for a round of cards.

Shepard found that she was glad they weren’t playing for actual credits because she lost miserably. Especially Cassia had a knack for the game and the best poker face Shepard had ever encountered and that included Kaidan. “They’ll be boasting about this for the rest of their lives,” Quintus murmured into her ear after they’d left the crew quarters to head back to the medbay. “They beat the great Commander Shepard at a card game.”

“Glad to be of service,” she grumbled under her breath but her voice betrayed that she wasn’t particularly upset about the matter. She enjoyed the games, it made her feel like she was part of a group again, like she belonged. She was convinced that Quintus made for a good friend, though it couldn’t quench her longing for her family on the Normandy. There had been no news of the ship yet and it was unnerving her. Whenever she wasn’t distracting herself her mind wandered to the million possible things that could’ve happened to them. Starting from the battle against the reapers from the collapsing relays. There was no guarantee that they had survived any of it, she knew that the odds that they actually made it were small but she didn’t dare to think about it too much.

 

The doors to the medbay swished open and Shepard looked up from the novel she was reading. The protagonist, a feisty Asari scientist, had just discovered that her assistant had been killed by a Drell assassin and the description reminded her an awful lot of Thane. The thought made her sad and curious at the same time; she wondered just how famous her friend had been before he turned his back to his profession to join her instead. She was surprised to see that it wasn’t Quintus who had come to abduct her for another game of cards but the young Engineer, Fabricia. Shepard greeted her with a nod as the Turian approached her and her eyes widened when the other held out her omni-tool bracelet. “You fixed it?”

The Engineer gave her a look that reminded her of Garrus whenever he was especially smug about something. She ignored the stab in her chest and took the offered bracelet, slipping it on immediately. “It was a piece of work, Commander. But it should be working now. I managed to recover most of your data and you should have full access to the extranet.”

Shepard brushed her fingers over the controls, bringing up the familiar interface. “That’s amazing. Thank you!”

Fabricia hummed, obviously satisfied with the reaction and lingered for a little moment. “Is there anything else I can help you with? You can send messages but with the comm buoy network as thinned out as it is there is no guarantee you’ll get anything out.”

The human shook her head in return, glancing up to give the Turian a look of gratefulness. “I won’t keep you from your work any longer. I figured messaging would be difficult but I guess it’s worth a try.”

“Alright. You have my data on your omni-tool, contact me if you have any questions.” Shepard watched the Engineer leave before she directed her attention to the omni-tool once more. Its presence alone was comforting. The other had done great work with it, as it was really exactly the way it had been before. Her fingers flew over the keys, pulling up every snippet of data she could find about the current situation. Information was scarce as the Engineer had mentioned before but there were some reports of other fleet ships. Most other ships that had survived the battle had reached the rendezvous point without further trouble. It seemed that the fleets had already separated, each returning to their home worlds to tend to their people. As the Captain had promised her there were several Alliance ships waiting for their arrival and Shepard was glad to see that Hackett’s ship was among them. She hadn’t gotten the chance to talk to him personally and she reminded herself to try to contact the General later.

There was something more important though and her fingers were trembling, when she called up the Normandy’s data. For a second she hesitated, almost embarrassingly anxious, then she swallowed thickly and hailed the ship.

Nothing. Silence answered her and then after a few heart-wrenchingly long seconds the screen flickered red to announce that the attempt to establish a connection had failed. She sunk back into the pillows, staring numbly at the words that were burning themselves into her brain. Of course. What else had she expected? It didn’t mean that the Normandy had been destroyed, she reminded herself, fighting off the fear threatening to take over her mind. Taking a deep breath, she rubbed her suspiciously wet eyes and pulled up a different window to type out a message instead.

 

_FS: Garrus. I don’t know if and when you will receive this but I hope you are safe. Captain Manius mentioned that they didn’t find any wreckage of the Normandy in the Sol system so I assume you made it out of there in time. I know you have a tendency to blame yourself for things that aren’t your fault so don’t blame yourself for leaving. It was the right call. I’m safe. I’m aboard the Tenacious, with the Mass Relays out of commission it will take us a while to get anywhere but we’re scheduled to meet Hackett soon. It’s strange having nothing to do, after the Captain I’m the highest ranking officer on this ship but they won’t let me out of bed long enough to even get to the bridge. I might have to stage a mutiny. I miss you._

_FS: I love you_

_FS: I miss the Normandy. I miss Liara and Tali and Kaidan. Hell, I even miss having someone to call me ‘Lola’. I miss Joker’s bad jokes and EDI’s never ending questions. Tell Diana I’m ready to give her one hell of an interview. And tell Chakwas to get out that gin, I could use that right about now._

_FS: I tried. That nightmare thing you told me about. But no matter what I tell my brain it doesn’t work. I rarely got nightmares when I slept with you. Maybe I should ask that nice Turian soldier if he minds sharing a bed._

_FS: That was a joke, obviously. No Turian could ever measure up to you. No one can._

_FS: Fuck I just really miss you. Hurry up and save your damsel in distress!_

Shepard sighed and shook her head. It wasn’t like Garrus would mind her rambling and spamming him with messages but it didn’t make her feel any better. She wanted him here, wanted to hold him and kiss him and know that he was never going to leave her again. That _she_ would never leave him again. She lingered with the thought for a moment, remembering their last moment on the battlefield, the way his hand had clenched around hers, trying to keep her with him. It made her heart ache. She’d see him again, she promised herself though the words sounded hollow even in her own head. Forcing herself to focus on something else, she turned back to her omni-tool and typed out a message to General Hackett.

 

Shepard hoped that no one on board was keeping an eye on her extranet activities. Not because she found herself browsing any scandalous websites or attempting to dig into the databases of the Turian ship, no. It was the sheer amount of messages she sent Garrus that would probably make these people see her as she truly was: No hero, but a very desperate and lonely woman. At some point she stopped hoping for a reply, stopped checking her messages every few minutes. She wasn’t exactly sure why she kept writing him still. Maybe because she refused to give up on the little bit of hope she had left, maybe she simply refused to face the facts. Denial, she thought to herself, one of the many stages of grief.

Another week passed before anything disrupted the bland routine she had slipped into. She’d just returned to the medbay from another torturous walk down the same, grey hallways when her omni-tool pinged. Her heart skipped a beat, hand hesitating to call up the notification. Hope simmered through the cracks of her heart as she pulled up the interface.

The incoming transmission was from General Hackett and she tried her best to swallow down the lump of disappointment, fear, sadness, growing in her throat. The image was blurry, Hackett’s voice sounded metallic with all the interference. Still it felt good to see a familiar face. The relief was obvious in Hackett’s voice when he greeted her, waving off her strained attempt to salute. “Shepard. It’s good to see you. We were sure you didn’t make it.”

“Likewise, sir. Seems the universe doesn’t want me dead just yet.”

The General smiled and Shepard thought that he looked years younger like this, with the weight of the war lifted off his shoulders. She hadn’t seen him smile in a long time. He seemed tired though, like he could use some rest and she felt that she could sympathise. After all of this the promise of rest and a well-deserved break for all of them was almost too good to be true. The image flickered and Hackett frowned. “I don’t know how long we have before the connection breaks down again, so if there’s anything you want to know better ask quickly.”

She opened her mouth only to close it again when she was left at a loss. There were a million things she needed to know, so many questions she wanted answered that she wasn’t sure what to bring up first. After a moment of consideration, she finally asked: “What’s the status, sir?”

Hackett sighed. “We all took heavy losses. The Alliance and the Turians took the heaviest blow but no one got out unscathed. The Asari lost more than half their fleet and about two thirds of the Quarian flotilla were destroyed. We haven’t heard much from the Geth but it seemed the Crucible got pretty close to wiping them out entirely. According to the Quarians only a fraction of their programs were recovered. I’ll make sure to send you all the reports though I don’t recommend you actually read them.”

Shepard closed her eyes. Yes, she ‘d suspected as much. The Catalyst had explained it to her that the blast would target all synthetics. She remembered Legion and their sacrifice to ensure that the Geth would have a chance to live on. She just hoped it hadn’t been in vain. “About the Normandy, sir…”

She didn’t need to finish the sentence for the other to understand. The look of sympathy on his features was enough to catch her breath in her lungs. No, no, no. It couldn’t be! “We’ve lost contact to the Normandy after the Crucible was activated. According to the scanner readings she was still on course to the rendezvous point when we passed through the Mass Relay but then she dropped off the radar. Our best guess is that she was thrown out of hyperspace somewhere, or-“

He left the sentence open and Shepard nodded weakly. She knew what he meant to say. The Normandy had either been catapulted to some far off corner of the galaxy or she had been destroyed. The thought sent a shiver of ice cold dread down her spine. She felt herself spacing out again, pulled back into the memories that haunted her dreaming and waking hours alike, when Hackett cleared his throat. “I wouldn’t worry too much, Shepard. For all we know, the ship’s intact and on her way home as we speak. Ever since you took over command of the Normandy she has been known for all kinds of miracles.”

If only that was so easy to believe. Shepard rubbed a hand over her face. “Thank you, sir.”

Hackett nodded, his frown easing into an expression of gentle concern. “How are you holding up? Captain Manius said you were half dead when they found you.”

“I’m alright, dir. The doc patched me up as well as they could. It’s the Cerberus implants that are keeping me in bed mostly. The Turians don’t have the tech to fix everything and without them I’m apparently down to less than 20% functionality. All due respect, sir, it’s a wonder I can still eat and piss on my own to be honest.” She shook her head, her voice coloured in frustration.

The General gave her another nod and a smile that was probably meant to be reassuring. “I’ve heard as much. We’ve been sending for a specialist to take care of that once you get here. We’ll get you back on your feet, don’t you doubt that.”

Shepard huffed out a breath. It was hard not to feel like things were going to be alright if the General used that tone of voice. “Yes, sir. Thank you.”

Hackett looked satisfied with her response. “I have to go. I’m sending a ship to meet up with you and escort you to our coordinates. Hackett out.”

She watched the empty screen for a little longer, then with a sigh moved to turn off the omni-tool. Once more she was left with the silence that seemed even more pressing now than it had before. It was strange how on a ship full of people she suddenly felt incredibly alone. The only thing she had left to look forward to were the evenings spent in the crew quarters when she could focus on the card games instead of the invasive thoughts poking around in her head.

 

She lost all track of time as the ship was limping through space. Even with the advanced Turian engine it took them seemingly forever to even reach the edge of Council space. If she’d hoped her condition would improve despite what the doctor had said about her implants, she was proven wrong, when even after two months on the Turian ship she could barely walk for longer than a couple of minutes even with the crutches. And it wasn’t only the walking, every unnecessary movement set her body aflame with pain. She kept in contact with General Hackett, finding solace in his words and the reports he kept sending her about the Alliance’s plans to rebuild Earth and the rest of the colonies. She’d stopped sending Garrus messages, finding it too painful to know that there would never be a reply. The more time passed the more certain she grew that the Normandy was lost. She didn’t know how to deal with it, with everything the war had taken from her. Not only had she led the united fleets into a battle that not even half of them had made it out of but she’d lost the only home, the only family she’d still had. On bad days she thought that it would’ve been better if she had truly died on the Citadel. She didn’t understand what purpose her being alive still had. She’d completed the mission, had won the greatest fight in the history of the universe. It should’ve ended like that. She found herself in the same state that she’d experienced after Akuze, torn between survivor’s guilt and the utter meaningless of her existence. Only this time it felt a hundred times worse.

Shepard had forced herself to get out of bed when Captian Manius announced that two Alliance ships had entered their sensor range. With Quintus’ help she’d dressed in the ill-fitting uniform the Turians had found for her and made her way to the bridge. It was a strangely comforting feeling to be at the Command station again, though she had to lean most of her weight on the soldier’s shoulder as she stared up at the wide screen. It took another hour until the darkness of space was torn apart by the two sleek ships and the feeling of relief upon spotting the two frigates was strong enough to have her swaying on her feet. Quintus’ arm around her waist tightened and she wordlessly thanked him for his support with a nod.

“This is Captain Lang of the SSV Trafalgar. We’re sent to escort you to the rest of the fleet.”

Captain Manius nodded at the comm officer, straightening his shoulders before he replied: “This is Captain Manius of the Tenacious, it’s good to see you.” 

The frigates pulled up to both sides of the Turian ship, taking their positions to escort them. “We can send over medical supplies or tech support should you need it. Is the Commander with you?”

Suddenly all eyes were on her and she swallowed thickly. “I’m here, Captain.”

Not knowing what else to say she threw a helpless look at the Captain who hurried to step in again. “Thank you, Captain Lang. We’ll be sending you a list of all supplies we will need.” The rest of the transmission consisted of Captain Lang giving them an update about the coordinates and the fleet’s condition. Manius approached her once the comm was silent once more. “Commander Shepard. If you wish, we can arrange to transfer you to one of the Alliance ships though if you would prefer to remain aboard we would of course be happy to accommodate you.”

Shepard nodded, still not entirely sure what to say. “Thank you, sir. I’ll make sure to inform you of my decision.”

Manius hummed in response and she thought she noticed a slight discrepancy between his voice and his subvocals when he spoke. “Good. Talk to Lieutenant Titus if you need anything the Alliance ships can provide.”

Quintus handed her the crutches once more and still with an arm around her waist, helped her leave the bridge. “He would like you to stay on board.” The soldier finally said, once they were safely out of earshot and halfway down the hallway.

Shepard looked up with a questioning expression on her features, causing the Turian to snicker. “You didn’t hear it but he was promising you that if you choose to stay on board he would protect you at all cost. You may not want to hear it but you really are a hero to all of us, it would be an honour for this ship to be the one that saved you and brought you to reunite with your fleet.” The soldier tilted his head, seemingly considering something, then he flashed Shepard a grin. “I am sure if you only ask for it they would declare you an honorary Turian as well.”

The thought was amusing enough to cast a little smile on her lips. “I am not sure my boyfriend would agree with that. In the end I become a better Turian than he is.”

That had Quintus eye her with curiosity. “You’re talking about Vakarian, aren’t you? You never speak about him.”

Her tongue was too heavy for her mouth and it took her what seemed like hours until she could muster up enough strength to reply. “He was aboard the Normandy when she… when the Alliance lost her signal. The odds that they made it are rather small.”

It earned her a sound that was more of a purr than anything else and the arm around her waist tightened, as Quintus continued to regard her with a look that was probably as close to sympathy as Turian expressions could get. “I’m sorry. You know, even if your fringe is a bit weird, you’re very attractive.” A three fingered hand ruffled her black hair and she found her lips twitching into a small smile despite the ache tearing at her chest.

“Thank you, Quintus. Though I wouldn’t call myself attractive like this.” She tilted her head to the side to eye herself. She’d lost weight over the last months, muscles growing less pronounced the longer she spent her days in bed and even without her clinging to the crutches anyone could see that her body was anything but functional. “But I’ll try to keep it in mind.” In any other situation she would’ve welcomed a bit of light-hearted banter but as the situation was, she couldn’t bring herself to come up with a witty reply. The Turian seemed to notice and instead of leading her to the lift, he gently pulled her towards one of the doors to their left. At her questioningly raised eyebrow he placed a hand against the door panel and once it swished open she found herself in the room she had wanted to visit again ever since their little tour of the ship. The observation deck was nowhere as fancy as the one on the Normandy, there were no comfortable couches, no bar but the view was enough to make up for that. The Trafalgar was visible on the screen, her sleek features illuminated by the light of the stars that made her hull gleam. It was obvious that the ship had taken damage in the battle, some parts were blackened, there were several holes in the hull that had obviously been fixed in a hurry to keep the ship running. But it didn’t do anything to diminish her beauty. It couldn’t rival the Normandy but it felt familiar, _good_ nevertheless.

With Quintus’ help, she discarded the crutches to sit down in front of the screen, one hand pressed against the cool glass. It reminded her of the long hours she spent with Samara on the Normandy, the moments of companionable silence, even the conversations in life support with Thane. She could imagine Kaidan, leaning against the screen to her left, staring out into the emptiness of space with that empty look on his face. Only months ago she’d thought that she couldn’t forgive Kaidan for how he had treated her after her return from the dead, how he had broken her heart and left her in pieces for someone else to pick up but she’d found that she hadn’t been able to abandon him after all. He was her friend, her brother as she’d called him and even the scar he’d carved into her heart couldn’t change that. Maybe she still loved him in a way, the memories of their time together stored away at the back of her mind. They didn’t give her the same comfort as those of Garrus gave her but they were warm and with the coldness of space seeping into her conscious at night she needed every ounce of beauty to cling to.

“I have a brother on Palaven.” Quintus finally started and Shepard turned her head to find him on the floor next to her, his gaze trailing over the Alliance ship outside. “I haven’t heard from him since the Reapers attacked and I don’t know if he made it out in time. My sister is serving on one of the Hierarchy Dreadnaughts. She sent me a message just before they passed the Mass Relay but as the communications with the Turian fleet are anything but spotty I haven’t been able to talk to her since. She probably thinks I’m dead too.” He sighed, leaning his side against the screen. “I promised her that when this war is over we’d go find our brother and then rebuild our home on Palaven. But I’m not sure if there’s even enough left.”

Shepard nodded slowly. “You can always rebuild. You have to. You’ve beat the reapers and now you get to start again and this time for good.” She thought of her home on Mindoir and how she’d vowed to never set foot on that godforsaken planet again. Then she thought of Earth and London and how Anderson had promised to show her around once the war was over. A chance that they would never get. “I hope I get to see it. Everyone working together to rebuild what we’ve lost to the reapers. I’m sure as soon as they get the Mass Relays back online everything will look a lot brighter.”

Quintus shot her a glance and the look on his face was one of utter determination and admiration. “You’ll get to see it. And if we have to steal a ship to see Palaven and Earth again I’m a decent pilot, you know.”

She huffed out a breath, her voice gentle with gratefulness, when she replied: “I sure hope you are because I’m a lousy pilot.”

“No way!” His eyes widened. “The famous Commander Shepard a bad pilot?”

Shepard raised an eyebrow at him. “You have no idea. My shipmates banned me from driving even a skycar for life. Even our AI can’t stand my piloting skills.” Thinking of her family still hurt but it was good to remember the happy moments. The violent protests whenever she tried to slip into the driver's seat of the skycar, Steve shouting at her to get the hell away from the shuttle controls, Garrus asking her how long exactly she’d spent in flight school before she was kicked out. A little smile flitted over her lips at the memory.

She was surprised to find a three-fingered hand taking her own, squeezing it lightly. “I hope you find them again.”

The human nodded in return, swallowing around the lump in her throat, as she squeezed his hand in return. “I’m sure you’ll see your brother again.”

Quintus hummed and they fell into a comfortable silence, watching the stars pass by and the light flickering over the Trafalgar’s hull.

 

Shepard decided to stay on the Turian ship after all. She only asked Lieutenant Titus for some rations that were not energy bars or nutrient paste and perhaps a uniform that would actually fit her. She hadn’t expected a Turian to enter medbay the very next day, arms full of clothes and supplies. Her eyes widened, when the soldier piled everything on her bed. Her fingers immediately reached for the uniform, finding it to be the same standard issue outfit she always wore and the familiarity hit her like a blow to the chest. There was a set of soft pyjamas and a sweater that looked awfully like someone had actually knitted it. She continued to sift through the pile and stopped dead in her tracks, when she found a box full of chocolate bars. A note was attached to the box that read in neat handwriting: ‘We saved them for our victory feast. It seems like you could use them. Private Ramos.’ The sentimentality was almost too much for her fragile emotions, nostalgia and gratefulness invading her mind, as she pried the box open and fished out one of the bars. Chocolate and Strawberry, her favourites. She quietly thanked Private Ramos on the Trafalgar and with trembling hands unwrapped the foil. The sweet taste was nearly overwhelming after months of living on disgusting levo emergency rations. Closing her eyes, she found herself moaning in pleasure as the chocolate melted on her tongue and she ignored the curious look of the soldier who had brought the pile as she ate the rest of the bar, only taking tiny bites in order to savour the taste fully.

There were several other boxes, mostly rations and microwave food that she gladly accepted. At least she’d have enough to eat for a few weeks, that was if she could convince her body to keep it down. On the bottom of the pile she found two bottles of shower gel and shampoo and she thanked whoever had been thoughtful enough to include it. Obviously Turians didn’t have any hair to wash and the soap they had offered didn’t smell bad per se but it was nothing compared to the sweet fruity scent of the shampoo. The soldier, who had watched her reaction with obvious interest, saluted when she looked up once more and she asked her to relay her thanks to whoever had been responsible for putting together her supplies.

It was still somewhat uncomfortable to ask the doctor to help her shower but she’d learnt long ago that misplaced pride was the worst trait a soldier could have. Finally feeling clean again, she reached for the uniform. The fabric felt smooth against her skin, even smelling familiar though it hung a bit loosely around her waist and arms. She opted for devouring another chocolate bar, though it made her stomach rebel and she barely managed to keep herself from throwing up. She gulped down some of the water and found that she felt a hint of satisfaction at keeping the food down. Quintus gave her an appreciative once over when he showed up to fetch her for their card game and for a moment she could almost forget that her body was broken, maybe beyond repair, and that when she would call up her omni-tool later there would be an empty void waiting to swallow her. The moment passed quickly enough and after only two rounds of cards she had to call quits because the dizziness was overtaking her mind again. Maybe it was the chocolate, maybe it was the strange familiarity of the uniform that brought the memories back.

She didn’t make it back to the medbay. They were halfway down at the lift, when she collapsed, the crutches cluttering to the floor, as she crumbled. Quintus tried to catch her but she fought him off, her eyes widened and empty as the screams tore from her chest. She was back in London, the smoke filled air stinging in her lungs. There was blood everywhere, her suit had been torn to shreds, skin bared and burnt. She saw Harbinger’s eye focusing on her, the red gleaming of the energy beam that would incinerate her without mercy. Around her she could hear the screaming of those who died, the soldiers being ripped apart by the Cannibals, the howling of the Husks. She watched Garrus go down, Liara cowering at his side, calling for Shepard. Pain tore through her body, pure, boiling agony burning the skin right off her body. Anderson’s shoulder against her, his hand in hers as he took his last breath. The Normandy fleeing the battlefield, carrying off the man she loved more than anything. Carrying him to safety and yet he wasn’t safe. The Citadel. The stench of burnt, rotting flesh. The mountains of corpses as far as the eye could see. The Catalyst, taking the form of the boy, the boy who had reminded her so much of her own little brother only to torture her further. Earth. Palaven. Thessia. All the worlds she couldn’t save, the people who had died because she had failed. Mordin. Legion. Thane. Ashley. And now everyone else. The Normandy. Her family. Garrus.

“Shepard!” The voice tore at her, the rapidly changing visions blurring in front of her eyes. “Shepard, come on!” Quintus, she thought, squeezing her eyes shut but she couldn’t push away the images haunting her. She felt like a child again, like the sixteen-year-old girl she’d been when Mindoir had been attacked. She was hiding under her father’s desk when the raiders stormed the house. She could hear their voices, the shouting and then the screams, her parents’ screams. Her brother had been hiding in the cupboard but they found him. She was forced to watch how they dragged him out into the open and then shot him when he tried to struggle. He’d been calling for her, calling her name but she’d only watched. Pressing her hands over her mouth to block out any sound, tears streaming over her face as she watched his lifeless body hit the floor. Useless. She’d been useless, unable to safe anyone but herself. The Thresher Maw roared, tearing the Mako apart and the screams of her squad members echoed in her ears. Useless, only able to watch as they were slaughtered one by one. She felt the acid burning her skin, leaving behind the huge scar covering her stomach and hips and that she had carried for so long until Cerberus took it away from her. She was dying, dying again, the radiation cooking her skin as the vacuum seeped into her suit, filling her lungs and then her mind with darkness. The Citadel. Pain, so much pain. So much death. Let it end, she begged, staring up at the stars above her, so far away. Please, let it end.

_“Shepard!”_

Her eyes snapped open, leaving her temporarily blinded by the light. A Turian was leaning over her, concern obvious in his features. Garrus, she thought but then she realized that the clan markings were all wrong. Everything was wrong, there were no scars, no gentle expression, no bright blue eyes looking at her with so much love. It couldn’t be Garrus because Garrus was gone. The thought left her gasping for breath, a different pain altogether taking hold of her chest and choking her.

“Shepard, come on, talk to me.” Quintus was kneeling next to her, his hands hovering in the air between them as though he was scared he’d only make it worse if he touched her but at the same time he wanted to make sure she didn’t hurt herself.

Shepard shook her head, untangling her hands from where she’d buried them in her hair to wrap her arms around herself. She didn’t think she could bring up the strength to speak, not when she barely remembered where she was and how she got here. She started counting again, the way she’d always done it when she’d gotten into trouble, focusing entirely on the numbers in her head. One-two-three-four-five-six- the reaper’s screech echoed in her ears, resonated in her bones and left her shaking like a leaf. She tried again, one-two-three-four-five-six-seven-eight-nine- Garrus’ face when she let go of his hand, ordering the Normandy to take off. She whimpered, desperately trying to think about nothing but the counting. This time she got to three-hundred before she was interrupted. Another Turian came in view and she immediately recognised them as the doctor.

She closed her eyes when she felt the needle pierce the skin of her arm, pressing herself into the wall in her back. It would be alright, she promised herself as the sedative cursed through her veins, she would be alright.

 

_FS: There are so many things I never told you. Like that I really love watching you snipe. You look good like that, concentration written all over your face and then you shoot and you just don’t ever miss. I don’t know how you do it but you even get the kickback to look beautiful. You’ll pull back your shoulder the slightest bit and it looks so graceful._

_FS: I love falling asleep knowing that you will be there when I wake up. Hell I even love watching you calibrate the Normandy’s guns. I don’t think I’ve ever spent so much time just watching someone work without saying a word. It felt good. I’m not afraid to say you put me back together after Cerberus brought me back from the dead. Back then I wasn’t sure who I even was, if I was the real Shepard or just a bad copy, I was still in love with Kaidan but I knew I couldn’t be together with him after what happened on Horizon, the way he looked at me. I’m sure even Liara was suspicious at first, everyone was. Everyone but you. You were the only one who never doubted me once. You took one look at me and you were certain that it was really me even if I wasn’t. You were there for me when I needed you the most. I couldn’t have done any of this without you, not defeating the Collectors, not beating the Reapers. You taught me courage that I never thought I had._

_FS: I know I’ve written this a million times but I love you. I still love you, I’ll always love you. I know for sure that I could never love anyone like I love you. You, Garrus Vakarian, have ruined me for anyone else._

_FS: I let you win, you know. Our date on top of the Presidium? I missed on purpose. Sometimes I wish I hadn’t just to see how you’d react when I kicked your ass. But then you were so happy how could I not give you that one. I guess it’s okay if I tell you now after all you’ll never read those messages._

_FS: Wait for me at the bar, Garrus. You better order me a drink already because I’ll be holding you to the ‘I’m buying’ part when I get there._

_FS: Fuck._

_FS: I don’t want to live without you. It’s an awfully empty galaxy without you, Garrus._

Her chest was empty when she woke up. Shepard couldn’t say how long she’d been asleep. She felt boneless, exhausted and numb. Unmoving she stared at the ceiling until the doctor approached her bed to ask her how she was feeling. She lied, the ‘alright’ falling off her lips all too easily, though she wasn’t sure if he actually believed her. She spent the rest of the day in bed, doing nothing but pushing away any and all thoughts that lingered at the edge of her conscious. When she dragged herself to the bathroom, she didn’t bother to look in the mirror, knowing that she looked like hell anyway. She attempted to chew on one of the energy bars when the doctor reminded her that she needed sustenance. Half an hour later she was throwing it up again, heaving until the insides of her stomach felt like they were trying to devour themselves.

Shepard didn’t say it out loud but she was infinitely grateful when the doctor offered her another sedative to put her back to sleep. She longed for the dreamless state of calm, the warm nothingness to embrace her again.

 

It took her another week before she was back on her feet again. Her muscles were complaining with every step but she forced herself to stay upright, leaning on Quintus and the crutches to get around. Her nights were still filled with darkness and despair but she wouldn’t let it conquer her. She had to keep her spine, if not for herself then for all of those people who looked upon her as an inspiration, as a source for courage. Quintus had reminded her of that, that she was a symbol for so many and if she could give them the hope to rebuild their worlds, she had to pull herself together. She joined the card games once more, practically devoured the novels she’d been given and read her way through all of the data Hackett was sending her way.

The transmission didn’t come as a surprise. Captain Lang of the Trafalgar had informed her only two days earlier that they were getting closer to the rest of the fleet and she wasn’t sure if she should be excited or scared. It was easier to read the reports about the losses than to actually see what was left of the Alliance fleet. “General.” She said, raising a hand to salute and feeling a stab of satisfaction when her hand didn’t tremble this time.

Hackett nodded. “Commander Shepard, it’s good to see you’re doing better. You had us worried there. I got a message from the Asari councillor that she would like to send you the best psych support they can offer.”

Shepard huffed out a breath. Usually she would’ve politely declined because she had no desire to have someone else poke around in her brain. She knew Alliance protocols but they had just won a war that left their civilisation in ruins, she didn’t think that anyone would give a damn about protocols anymore. “I don’t think I’ll need it, sir. I can handle this. We have more important things to do.”

“We do, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to make sure you’re really doing alright.” The General gave her a stern glance that made it obvious his words weren’t a request but an order.

She sighed. “Alright. I’ll see whatever shrink you send me to. I just think you should get someone to look at my implants first or I might never be able to return to duty.”

The man gave her a raised eyebrow. “If you were anyone else I’d question your sanity. No one who’s been through as much as you would request to be put on duty again. But I know you Shepard, I was the one to read the dozen emails you wrote Command when they put you on medical leave after Akuze. And the ruckus you caused when they put you under house arrest after you took out the Collector base? I’ve never seen the Generals in such a state of utter panic.” He shook his head. “But I’m serious here. I want you to recover fully before you do anything. You deserve a break, hell, I’d tell anyone else in your position to retire. Anyway. Concerning your implants, the specialist I sent for arrived just a few days ago. She wants to speak with you as soon as possible.”

Shepard nodded, though she wasn’t in the mood to talk to some ex-Cerberus engineer. “Yes, sir. I’ll think about the retirement.”

“As if.” Hackett gave her a gentle smile and she found herself longing to meet the man in person again. They’d known each other for so long, he’d been there when she first joined the Alliance, he’d recommended her for the N7 program, he’d supported her when she took over the Normandy. He’d been the first to support her plan after they discovered the blueprints of the Crucible. She trusted this man with her life, now more than ever. “I have to get back to work. According to your navigator you should be arriving at our position in two days. I’m sure you’re looking forward to seeing a few familiar faces again, Commander.”

She didn’t dare to ask the question that lingered on her tongue, so she simply agreed. “The Turians have been nothing but welcoming but it’ll be good to be on an Alliance ship again, sir.”

If Hackett noticed the uncertainty in her voice, he didn’t comment on it. “We’ll be glad to welcome you back. Hackett out.”

Shepard hesitated for a moment before she opened the second comm request, taking a deep breath to prepare herself for whatever was to come.

She wasn’t prepared for the face that appeared on the screen however. “Miranda!”

The woman smiled in return and Shepard was sure she’d never been so glad to see the other as she was now. When Hackett had talked about the specialist he’d bring in to fix her implants, she hadn’t dared to hope that he’d call upon Miranda though she was the obvious choice, having worked on the implants in the first place. “Shepard. You look like shit.”

She huffed out a breath and felt an involuntary smile gracing her lips. “Can’t say the same about you, Miranda. You look good. How are you? Is Oriana alright?”

The expression on Miranda’s features was easy to read, the relief clearly etched into the almost invisible lines around her eyes and mouth. She was glad to see her, Shepard thought and it made a gentle warmth spread in her chest. “Oriana is safe. She’s sending me updates whenever she can though communications are difficult these days. I’m good, all things considered. Honestly didn’t think we’d make it this time but you did it again. You saved the entire universe this time, Shepard, what’s next on the list?”

Shepard hummed, finding it easy to slip back into the light conversation with her friend. “I don’t know. I took down the reapers, not sure there’s anything that can measure up to that. But I’m sure I’ll come up with something.”

Miranda shook her head. “By god, don’t. It was bad enough this time, whatever you’ll dig up next will surely be the end of us all.” A more serious expression settled on her face as she leant forward. “I got the reports from the Turian doctor. With all the damage you took this time, it’s a miracle you survived. I don’t think I even want to know how you did it.”

She gave a little shrug, not having an answer for the other woman. “I’m glad Hackett contacted you. You’re the one who put those things into me in the first place, you think you can fix them?”

“I’ll give it my best shot but I can’t promise anything. The Illusive Man poured a lot of resources into bringing you back, I doubt the Alliance can afford to do the same.” The scientist seemed troubled, looking down at the datapad in her hand. “Don’t worry, Shepard. It’ll be a piece of work but I’m sure we’ll get you back on your feet.”

Shepard nodded. “Thanks, Miranda. Have you heard from any of the others?” She consciously avoided asking about the Normandy because she knew just as well that there had been no sign of the ship.

Miranda gave her a funny look that she couldn’t quite identify. “I talked to Jack of all people. I won’t repeat the insults she threw at my head but when I told her that you were alive she seemed content enough. Told me to remind you that you should get your arse to wherever she is so she can kick it for almost getting killed again. I hate to say it but I have to agree with her on this one.”

Jack was alive. The Commander felt an overwhelming gratefulness at the thought. “You have to get me fixed up first before she can kick my ass. But I’m looking forward to it.”

The other woman flashed her another smile that did wonders to Shepard’s heart. “Will do, Shepard. I have to go; you take care of yourself.”

“You too, Miranda.” The screen flickered and the image disappeared, leaving her alone once more but for the first time in months she didn’t feel entirely lost.

 

If the previous weeks had been passing torturously slow, the next three days passed in the blink of an eye. Shepard exchanged messages with Miranda and had attempted to contact Jack on several occasions but the connection with the biotic had never been stable enough for more than a few words. She’d lost five of her students, she’d told the Commander, but the rest of them were apparently safe and sound now. It appeared that Kahlee Sanders had presented plans to rebuild Grissom Academy in order to provide a home for all the young, talented biotics that had survived the war.

It felt like Shepard had only gone to sleep moments ago before the buzzing of her omni-tool woke her up again. Her breakfast consisted of a chocolate bar and a bottle of water that still left her insides aching but she told herself that she didn’t have the time to give in to the moods of her body. Shepard allowed the doctor to help her into the bathroom and opted for putting on the uniform, no matter how ill-fitting it looked on her now. A glance at her reflection in the mirror confirmed what both Jack and Miranda had so graciously reminded her of: She looked like shit. Her usually darker skin appeared shockingly pale under the artificial light, whereas the bruises under her eyes had grown dark enough to rival the void outside. Her weight loss had cut deep lines into her face, leaving her cheekbones more pronounced and her cheeks hollowed out. The dark hair that Garrus had often claimed was his favourite part of her appearance – closely followed by everything else – hung lifelessly in her face, the silky black now dull and messy.

She didn’t dare to continue looking and left the bathroom before her mind could wander to any more dangerous shores. Quintus was waiting for her, once more in his standard armour. Shepard didn’t complain when his hand found her waist, knowing that the doctor had ordered him to keep an eye on her and not being proud enough to decline the offer for additional support. Together they made their way to the bridge. Despite herself she felt excitement bubble up in her chest and at the same time a hint of anxiety settling at the back of her head. She stood straighter once they entered the Command Centre, forcing her muscles to obey. They didn’t have to wait long before the ships came in sight, the two dreadnoughts proud shadows against the light of the system’s sun. It wasn’t much, according to Hackett most of the fleet was already on its way back to Earth or one of the colonies but Shepard nevertheless found nostalgia settling on her shoulders at the sight.

The Alliance had been her home ever since she was eighteen and it was that familiarity that cleared some of the doubt from her mind. She was a soldier, like any of these people were, maybe with less to lose now but that didn’t change what she was. She had a duty to fulfil and for that purpose she would continue fighting.

“Alliance dreadnought, this is the Tenacious, requesting permission to dock.”

The comm cracked before an unfamiliar voice filled the ship’s bridge. “This is Lieutenant Schreil of the SSV Elbrus, request granted. General Hackett asks that Commander Shepard is to be transferred to our medical bay immediately.” Madnius confirmed the order and then turned to the human in question, extending one hand. Resting her weight on the left crutch, she hurried to reach out and take the offered hand. “It was an honour to have you on board, Commander. I wish you all the best. It seems we’ll be returning to Palaven as soon as we’ve stocked up on fuel and supplies. Maybe we’ll run into each other again once the Relay system is back online.”

Shepard nodding, squeezing the Turian’s hand shortly before letting go again. “Thank you, Captain. I’m certain we will. We stopped this threat together, I’m convinced our cooperation will not end there. It makes a lot more sense if we keep working together to rebuild hat has been lost.”

The Captain tilted his head and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “I agree with you. Bur that is a matter of politics now, I’m afraid we’ll have little say in the matter.”

“They’ll have to see reason. This fight has shown everyone that the only way to ensure out future is if we stick together. Goodbye Captain.”

The Turian didn’t seem all too convinced of her determined response. “I hope so. Goodbye Commander Shepard.”

 

Quintus helped her stuff all the goodies from the Trafalgar into a small bag and slung it over his shoulder. She thanked him with a nod before saying her farewells to the doctor. It hadn’t taken her very long to get used to the medbay of the Tenacious, to the humming of the instruments that was so different from the Normandy’s engines she loved falling asleep to. She was pretty sure; she wouldn’t miss it one bit.

An assortment of Turian crewmembers had gathered to send her on her way, some of them she hadn’t even talked to. The little group she’d been playing cards with was there as well, shaking her hand and wishing her the best for her recovery. Shepard wasn’t good with things like this, not good at handling so much attention, so she simply stuck to nodding and thanking them. With their gazes lingering on her, she felt herself shrinking, growing even more conscious of the crutches and the way she had to cling to them to ensure she could even stand. She was almost glad, when they entered the docking tube. An Alliance soldier welcomed them on the other side, saluting quickly and then taking her bag of belongings from Quintus. The Turian hesitated for a moment, as though he wasn’t quite sure if he wanted to stay or head back to the Tenacious immediately. Shepard gave him one of her rare, half-smiles. “Thank you for everything, Quintus. You made these months almost endurable.”

Quintus shook his head, though his mandibles flared with something that looked like pride or affection. “I’m still convinced I should be the one thanking you, Shepard. But for all it’s worth I enjoyed our time together. Didn’t think anyone could make me feel good after this war but you did it.” He dug in one of the pockets of his uniform and brought forth something that Shepard recognised only on second glance as the deck of cards. Upon her questioningly raised eyebrow, Quintus held it out to her, his subvocals dropping even lower until she could barely hear their gentle hum as he spoke: “It’s for you. So you won’t forget me and the others. And if you ever feel bored, you need a lot more practice before you can beat a Turian but maybe you can teach it to some of your human crewmembers.”

“I won’t forget about you.” She promised, as she took the set of cards from his hand. “Keep me up to date if you hear anything from your sister and brother.”

The Turian nodded. “I will. And you’ll have to visit us on Palaven.” With that he straightened his shoulders to salute her before heading back towards his own ship. Shepard found herself staring at the closed door for a little longer before she pushed the cards into her pocket and mentioned for the Alliance soldier to go ahead. She ignored the glance he threw her over his shoulder as she slowly followed him. The layout of the ship was familiar and yet it seemed a lot bigger all of a sudden. Every step felt like she was climbing a mountain but she refused the soldier’s offer to call for a cot. As long as she could stand she’d walk on her own, she’d promised herself that much. The General awaited her in the CIC, returning her shaky salute and eyeing her critically. It wasn’t the same kind of scrutiny that some of the other officers watched her with, there was no pity on his face, only concern and a hint of pride that had her chest swell. He was proud of her, she thought, because she made it, because she’d won this war for them and because she hadn’t given up yet.

“Welcome back to the Alliance, Commander Shepard.”

She swallowed. “Thank you, General. It’s good to be back.” And it wasn’t a lie this time, the words weren’t empty. She still felt miserable and there were holes in her chest that could never be filled again but there was a part of her that was at ease in these familiar surroundings.

Before she could say anything else, the General had already approached her, his warm hand resting on her shoulder. “Miss Lawson is waiting for you in the medbay. I’ll accompany you there. There’s a few things we have to talk about.”

In a way she was glad to get away from the CIC and all the eyes tracking her every movement. On a normal day she wouldn’t have thought much about it, though she didn’t exactly enjoy being the centre of attention she’d learnt how to handle it. But with her condition like this she felt like everyone looking at her could see just how weak she was. And not only physically, it was as though their gazes bored into her soul, tried to widen those cracks in her resolve and force her to spill all that she had so neatly tucked away behind the wall she’d put up around herself years ago. Hackett remained quiet until they got to the lift, only speaking up once they were inside. “I want to promote you.”

Shepard frowned, looking up at him questioningly. Of all the things she’d expected that surely hadn’t been among it. “Sir?”

Upon closer examination the older man really looked tired, even more so than he had in their short vid conversations. The lines around his eyes and mouth had deepened, the grey in his hair that had been there for as long as she remembered, had almost swallowed the last patches of brown. “I’ll be honest with you, Shepard, it’s all a big mess. The Admiralty board was killed on Earth, we lost most of the other Generals, god I’m not even sure if there’s anyone left to outrank me after the fight against the Reapers. If no one else turns up it seems that Command will fall to me. You know just as well as I do that one person can’t handle all that responsibility, not even me.”

She struggled to find a fitting response to that, her train of thoughts interrupted as the doors of the lift swished open to expose the dreadnought’s crew deck. “But Sir, I’m sure there are several more suitable and higher ranking candidates than me. Kaidan Alenko-“

“Major Alenko is a good soldier, Shepard and he knows the burden of command as well as any soldier does but he doesn’t have your qualifications. Try to look it from my position, you saved the galaxy, you rallied a fleet greater than anything the galaxy has ever seen and you led them into a battle that no one really expected to win. At some point the rest of the galaxy will look at us and ask why we’re still treating you like a simple soldier instead of properly honouring your actions, your sacrifices.”

Shepard shook her head, opening her mouth to object but he effectively shut her up with a gesture of his hand. “I know you don’t quite see it that way. I admire your modesty but even you will agree that you’re one hell of a leader. You effectively shut down the chain of command when you led us to war against the reapers and it’s not just because you just happened to be in the right place at the right time but because you were the only one who could do it.” He sighed, gently manoeuvring her out of the lift and towards the medical bay. “I’m not saying you have to decide right now, take your time and recover first but I wanted you to know about this before I make my recommendation official. We need to build up the Alliance again and we can’t do it without a proper Command instance. You’re still young but not young enough to be inexperienced. You know the horrors of war as well as any who has fought in the First Contact War and you have experience in working with other species. I’m pretty sure if I don’t make you an Admiral, the Turians will ask if they can have you instead. At least that’s what I’m gathering from the comm chatter between Captain Manius and the Primark.”

The frown on her face deepened and she wasn’t at all sure what to make of these news. “You’re saying you want me on the Admiralty board?”

Hackett gave her a ‘that’s exactly what I’m saying’ look that was entirely self-explanatory as he touched the panel on the medbay doors. “I’m saying you could be good for the Alliance. Think about it, Commander.”

“I will, sir. I’m just not sure I deserve that kind of honour.” She was interrupted, when Miranda appeared in her field of vision. The war hadn’t changed anything about the confidence the woman carried herself with and Shepard had to admit that she envied her a little bit about that. Miranda was wicked smart, strong and beautiful and she knew it very well. She’d also always been taller than Shepard but now she seemed to be towering in front of her, arms crossed in front of her chest, as she eyed the Commander with as much judgement as she could put in her expression. It cast a little smile on the Commander’s face. She knew that she’d get the ‘what did I tell you about being careful’ lecture at some point, especially after Jack had already promised to kick her arse the next time they’d see each other.

Instead of talking to her, though, Miranda directed her gaze at the General. “I thought I’d said she should immediately be transferred to the medbay, Sir. What was the point in parading her around the ship first, everyone can see that she’s in no shape for victory declarations?” She seemed angry and once more Shepard found herself admiring the other because she didn’t give an ounce about the General’s rank or authority. Miranda had always been one to speak her mind and she’d gotten even better at it after leaving Cerberus behind and freeing her sister from her father’s influence.

The General however didn’t seem the least bit intimidated and Shepard suspected that they’d had several arguments over the last weeks. “Commander Shepard insisted on walking here on her own, who was I to decline?”

Miranda muttered something under her breath in return about responsibility and the lack thereof before she ushered Shepard to one of the beds and told her to lie down. Hackett lingered in the door for another moment. “I want updates on her condition. And don’t forget to think about what I told you, Shepard. You know I wouldn’t force this upon you but I think it could be good, not only for the Alliance but for you.” With that he left, the door sliding shut behind him and Shepard found herself staring at the door for another moment before directing her attention to Miranda once more. The woman was staring at one of the datapads before setting it down on the table to look at her instead.

“We have to stop meeting like this, Shepard.” Her voice was serious but there was a hint of a smile curling around her lips and Shepard breathed a sigh of relief.

The tension seeped out of her shoulders as she relaxed into the pillows that were so much more comfortable than the ones on the Turian ship. “I just know that I can count on you, Miranda. Don’t tell me you don’t enjoy building me up from scratch.”

The younger woman huffed out a breath. “Sure I do, I just wish it wouldn’t include you dying on me.”

“Almost dying. I’m pretty sure I wasn’t actually dead this time.” Shepard corrected, trying desperately to cling to the warmth that Miranda’s presence had filled her with. “So what’s the news, doc. Think you can patch me up again?”

The expression on Miranda’s features darkened and she picked up the datapad again. “It looks bad Shepard, that much you know but I don’t know if you have any idea just how much damage your implants have taken. I’m almost impressed, the Illusive Man made sure you only got the best of the best of tech and you managed to wreck it.”

Shepard raised an eyebrow. “You sound surprised.”

The scientist sighed. “You’re right, I shouldn’t be. You have a talent for breaking the unbreakable. But back to the matter at hand. Hackett made sure I got access to all the tech the Alliance could provide me with and you will be thankful to hear that he wasn’t the only one. As soon as news about your injuries got out, and I’m blaming the Turians for that because I’m sure the General didn’t lose a word about anything concerning you, I got offers from all kinds of places. You really made an impression on these people. I had Salarians, Asari and Quarians ask me if there was anything I needed, not to mention the full support the Hierarchy promised. I even got a message from a female Krogan telling me that if there was anything you needed that the Clans could provide I shouldn’t hesitate to speak up. I don’t know if I even want to know what you’ve been up to these past months.”

The Commander found herself smiling despite the anxiety tearing at her insides. “Eve!” In answer to Miranda’s sceptical look, she quickly explained: “Eve was a female Krogan that Mordin’s assistant used in his experiments to cure the Genophage. The Salarians saved her and we in turn saved her from the Salarian homeworld and brought her back to Tuchanka. Without her Mordin wouldn’t have been able to synthesise a cure.” The cure that cost his life in the end, Shepard hurried to push the thought aside. She was proud of Mordin and his sacrifice but that didn’t mean she was over it, especially now when she had lost so many others. At some point she would have to start coping with all of this but until then she opted for continuing to live in her own little bubble of denial.

“I heard about that. Somehow I knew that was going to happen ever since you brought that Krogan baby of yours-“

“Grunt.”

“Grunt… to Tuchanka for his maturity ritual. You have to fix everything, Shepard, sometimes I wonder if the word ‘impossible’ even exists in your dictionary.”

Impossible. It was impossible for her to sleep without spending hours staring at her omni-tool hoping for that message she would never get. It was impossible to keep her mind from wandering because everything seemed to remind her of Garrus or Liara or the others. Instead of voicing her thoughts out loud, she only shrugged. “I heard it once but I forgot to look it up.”

Miranda shook her head. “I thought so. In any case I have the best tech and equipment available that I could possibly get my hands on. Just don’t ask if all of this has been acquired legally because I am not inclined to answer that question.” She frowned. “They even got me two assistants, Doctor Cole, that girl Jacob picked up, and one of her colleagues. Apparently Cole worked with reaper implants, did you know she’s pregnant?”

Shepard nodded. “He told me. I’m glad they both made it. Jacob did make it, right?”

“He did, threatened to show up personally after his girlfriend told him that you were on your way back. But I think she convinced him that he would only get in our way. Good girl that one.” The scientist seemed strangely satisfied with that development, maybe because she and Jacob had after all struck up a careful friendship during their mission to defeat the Collectors. “I can begin the procedure whenever you’re ready, Shepard. You’ll be out of it for a few days, maybe a week once we’ve completed the surgeries. It won’t get miraculously better and they won’t work as well as the Cerberus implants. You’ll need extensive physical therapy, it could be months or even years until you’re back in top condition, maybe it won’t ever be as well as it was before but that’s the best I can do.”

She sighed, rubbing a hand over her face. “I figured as much. I trust you Miranda, you’ll do your best. I can deal with anything you throw at me afterwards. And it’s not like there’s another reaper threat to face. By any chance I won’t be needed anymore and they’ll ship me off to watch some colony for the rest of my career.” She had tried not to think about how much the thought of becoming useless scared her. With so much on her mind it was just another link in the chain, a dread that kept lingering on her shoulders. Even if she chose to accept Hackett’s proposal, she couldn’t see what use the Alliance had for a soldier that was broken in body and mind. “We can start whenever you have anything you need. It’s not like I have anything better to do.”

Miranda frowned and Shepard could practically see the little cogwheels behind her forehead turning. In the end she didn’t comment at all on her pessimistic statement, simply typed something into her omni-tool, before she said: “Alright. There’s no point in waiting I suppose. I’ll notify my assistants. Get yourself out of these clothes.” With that she hurried off, leaving Shepard to her thoughts and the eerie silence of the medbay.

Closing her eyes for a moment, she took a deep breath before she pulled up her omni-tool again. Her heart jumped when she saw the notification that she’d gotten a new message and she immediately hated herself for the wave of disappointment that crushed into her as soon as she saw that it was from Quintus. Shepard typed out a reply, telling the Turian that she was about to go into surgery and that she didn’t know when she would be up and about again. She hesitated for a little moment before she sifted through her archive and brought up the picture they had taken at that evening on the Citadel. It was strange to see all of them like this, smiling into the camera or in Joker’s and EDI’s case at each other. Her gaze lingered on Garrus and herself, the expression on their faces that looked so foreign all of the sudden. It was obvious that they were in love, not only from the way he had his arm slung around her shoulders but from the way they gazed at each other like there was nothing more important in the entire universe than each other.

With a sigh, she tore her gaze away from the two lovebirds to take in the rest of the picture. There was Liara, that same gentle smile on her lips that Shepard had always loved so much. There was Tali, who, even with the helmet, looked infinitely happier than she had before they had parted ways on Earth. Vega’s stoic face and salute would always make her smile. He’d tried so hard to appear serious despite the impressive amount of drinks he’d had and after an hour of trying to teach Liara how to play poker. There was Samantha, a little awkward but nevertheless comfortable where she was. Zaeed, the man she had at first sight despised and who turned out to be a better friend than she’d ever imagined, was grinning broadly, arms crossed in front of his chest to befit the part he played as the old mercenary. Grunt, of course, seemed entirely satisfied with everything, though he had admitted to her afterwards that it would’ve been an even cooler party if someone had tried to punch him at some point. Kaidan was smiling too and Shepard thought that maybe they could’ve been something if she hadn’t died over Alchera. He had been a handsome man, a good soldier and he’d deserved a better fate than this. Steve looked content, more so than she’d expected with the pain of his husband’s death still weighing on his soul. She’d been there for him, comforting words and gentle orders to get him out of the hole he’d dug himself and she had been happy for him when he’d finally decided to go out again, visiting a night club even on his last shore leave. Maybe he would’ve managed to start anew, find someone who cared for him and loved him, not to replace his husband but to maybe smooth out the scars on his heart. He should’ve had that chance, she thought.

Swallowing down the tears threatening to spill over her cheeks, she shut down the omni-tool and placed the bracelet on the nightstand. It took her an embarrassingly long time to get out of her clothes. She’d been trained since basic to not be ashamed of her body, had never had a problem changing in front of her squad mates or showering with them. But with the way her body looked now, she found herself pulling up the blanket to her chin. It wasn’t the scars and bruises that bothered her, it was the way her muscles had shrunk after the months without exercise, the way her ribs were all too visible under the skin.

“Commander Shepard.” The voice drew her away from the glum thoughts and she turned her head to see who had entered the medbay. Doctor Cole was approaching her, the smile on her lips an easy one and Shepard couldn’t keep herself from glancing at her belly. She thought she could see a little swelling though she couldn’t be very far ahead. The woman laughed and readjusted her uniform, obviously knowing exactly what was going on in the Commander’s head. “I never got to properly thank you for helping us get away from Cerberus. And for keeping Jacob alive during the fight against the Reapers.”

Shepard only waved a hand. “He’s a fine soldier. Told me you wanted to name the kid after me?”

Doctor Cole shook her head. “He’s trying to talk me out of it. But I like the name.”

The Commander raised an eyebrow at that. “Shepard? Wouldn’t make for a good first name I think.”

That had the doctor frown in thought. “Maybe you’re right. I never did get your first name, Commander.”

It was as much a question as it was a remark. “People don’t really use it.” Obviously not satisfied with that answer, the doctor only kept looking at her expectantly. After a long moment Shepard sighed and gave in. “It’s Falcon. Probably not as glamorous as you thought.”

“Falcon?” Doctor Cole tilted her head. “I’m not sure what I expected but it’s not a bad name.” She opened her mouth to say something else, when the doors slid open to reveal Miranda and another young man in a white uniform entered. Shepard didn’t remember seeing him before but he had to be another one of the ex-Cerberus scientists. In any other situation she’d have cracked a joke how not only one but three ex-Cerberus operatives were about to cut her open but she couldn’t come up with one.

Miranda nodded towards her assistant. “This is doctor Takumi, I worked with him the first time we put you back together. Don’t worry, Shepard, he knows what he’s doing. Are you ready for this?”

Shepard hummed in response, swallowing the ‘I’m not worried at all’ and shifting into a more comfortable position. “As ready as I’ll ever be. Do it.” She tried her best not to flinch, when Doctor Cole reached for her arm to push the needle into the crook of her elbow. “Just make sure you wake me up before we’re being attacked this time.” She muttered when Miranda pressed the oxygen mask against her face. With the sedative filling her blood, she felt herself getting drowsy, vision blurring at the edges. “Wouldn’t want to go running again half naked in search for thermal clips again…” She didn’t hear Miranda’s reply anymore, as her eyelids fluttered shut and she was pulled into the darkness of unconsciousness.

 

 

She couldn’t tell how long she remained like this, floating weightlessly in a churning sea. The good thing about the sedative induced sleep was that it was mostly dreamless, a void that swallowed her sense of time and embraced her with a gentle warmth. Shepard didn’t realise how comforting this state was until she was violently torn from it. Light flooded her conscious, the air was drawn from her lungs and left her gasping, struggling against the current that was forcing her under. Her limbs were aching, pain shooting up her spine as she finally breached the surface. Eyes flying open, she found her arms and legs held in place, no matter how much she tried to move them. A shout fell from her lips; she tried to move her head, blinking into the blinding light.

“Commander Shepard! Commander Shepard you have to calm down, your vitals are all over the place! You’re safe.” It took her a moment to realise where the voice was coming from, another second for her brain to recognise it as someone familiar. She froze, closing her eyes and trying to regulate her breathing. “That’s better.” The voice announced, as her heartrate slowly sank to a more acceptable level.

She tried to move her arms once more, only to find them restrained. A wave of panic surged through her, pure instinct warning her that she was in an all too vulnerable position. “My arms…” she croaked, coughing when her throat protested against the sudden activity.

The voice returned, closer now and she could see the Doctor Takumi leaning into her field of vision, his face scrunched up in a worried expression. “We had to make sure you didn’t hurt yourself. I will remove the restraints.”

Shepard coughed in reply, turning her head and wiping her mouth over the pillow to get rid of the bile clinging to her lips. “How- how long was I out?” She breathed in relief, when she could finally move her arms again, instinctively hugging them around her naked form. She was astonished to find that the pain had mostly vanished, leaving only a dull ache behind and the feeling that her limbs were as heavy as lead.

“About eight days. It took us two days to repair all of the damage and we had to keep you under for almost a week to give your body time to recover from surgery.” Takumi hurried to remove the bonds from her ankles before returning to his previous position at the head of the bed. Shepard flinched, when he pulled out a flashlight to test the reactions of her pupils without a warning. He nodded, obviously satisfied and began typing something into his omni-tool. “How are you feeling, Commander? Are you experiencing any dizziness? Headache?”

She frowned, trying to sit up only to find that her body didn’t obey her. With a frustrated groan, she flopped back into the pillow. “No dizziness but I feel like I tried to headbutt a Krogan.” At the raised eyebrow, she only shrugged. “Tried once, can’t recommend it.” After a second of consideration, she added: “How did the surgery go?”

Takumi took a moment to reply, as he finished typing first before he looked up from his report. “Miss Lawson was rather satisfied with the procedure. We’ve done all we can, now it comes down to how well your body accepts the implants. It is recommended that you start with physical therapy as soon as possible to avoid internal scarring.”

Shepard nodded. “Thank you, doctor. Could you contact General Hackett for me, I need to speak with him.”

The scientist gave her an odd look before he said ‘certainly’ and pulled up his omni-tool again. “General Hackett is on his way. If you need anything else, contact me or Miss Lawson.” When she indicated that she’d understood, he gave her a strained smile and disappeared out of the door, leaving her to try and move herself into a sitting position once more.

She’d barely managed to pull her legs up, when the doors slid open. The heavy steps stopped for a moment, then approached the bed, just as she settled with her back against the headboard. It wasn’t exactly a comfortable position but at least she wasn’t horizontal anymore. Unlike the last time she awoke from surgery, no one had bothered to dress her and she felt the slightest twinge of shame when the General pulled up a chair to sit next to her bed. “Doctor Takumi notified me that you were awake. How are you doing?”

“Like I could really use a drink, sir.” She pulled up the sheets as best as she could, before turning to face her superior officer. “Looks like it’ll take me some time until I’ll be operational again.”

Hackett leant back in his chair, his gaze wandering from her face to the screen next to the bed that displayed her now steady vitals. “I think we’ll manage to hold down the fort without you for a while. You take your time to recover, Commander, that’s an order.”

Shepard tried to swallow the bitterness rising in her throat. “Yes, sir. That’s not what I wanted to talk about.”

The General raised an eyebrow at her words, the same gentleness that he always had in store for her colouring his voice when he asked: “What’s on your mind, Commander?”

“I decided that I will accept your recommendation for promotion. According to Miranda I might never be back to 100% functionality, even if I will, it’ll take months, maybe years to get there. You know me, sir, I can’t just sit around doing nothing. I want- need to be able to _do_ something.” She breathed out a sigh and reached for the cup of water someone had left on her night table. When the glass threatened to slip from her grasp, Hackett hurried to take it from her, holding it to her lips so she could drink.

Shepard threw him a grateful look as he placed the cup back on the table. “I hoped you would think this way, Shepard. Honestly, there’s no one I’d rather have at my side when we try to sort this mess out than you. I can’t promise you much of a promotion ceremony as it is, we barely have the resources to keep the ship running.” He rested a hand on her shoulder for a little moment, before heaving himself out of the chair. “You should get some rest. Notify me once you’re up, I’m sure you didn’t get much of a levo dinner on that Turian ship and I think we can still afford to treat our new Admiral.”

“Thank you, sir.” Hackett left after giving her another approving nod. She watched him until he’d disappeared through the doors and then, with a sigh, sunk back into the pillow. She was exhausted, despite having just woken up from over a week of sleep. Rearranging her legs, she tried her best to ward off any and all thoughts threatening to invade her mind. Closing her eyes, she wished once more for the dreamless bliss of the sedative but she was too proud to call for one of the doctors. How would that look like? The great Commander Shepard can’t even fall asleep on her own. She rubbed a hand over her face and threw a glance at her omni-tool bracelet. Her fingers itched to slip it on, to check her messages even though she knew well enough that there would be nothing. Had she truly become addicted to that flicker of hope that sparked up in her heart only to be crushed again every single time? She should accept it, like she had accepted the death of her parents, like she had accepted that Mordin was no longer there, that she had been useless to help Thane. She’d have to accept it at some point before it drove her insane.

She forcefully pushed down the urge and drew up her knees instead, curling up under the thin sheets to find comfort in her own warmth. Garrus had always been warm, with his body temperature several degrees higher than hers, he’d been like a living furnace. She’d gotten too used to snuggling up to him, warming her cold feet by pressing them against his legs and ignoring his sleepy grumbling. She missed the feeling of his hard plates against her naked skin, the way his blunted talons would sometimes press into her waist when he shifted in his sleep. Shepard buried her face in the pillow and for the first time since the Tenacious picked her off the Citadel, allowed herself to really cry.

 

 

Later she couldn’t tell when the exhaustion had overtaken her mind, she didn’t remember if anyone had been there to see her, a heap of misery, sobbing into the pillow until she’d cried herself to sleep. She awoke with a headache tearing at her temples, the artificial light burning her eyes. If she’d hoped that crying her heart out would make her feel better, she’d been wrong. The weight hadn’t miraculously fallen from her shoulders, her chest still felt tight enough to break her ribs. Shepard bit her teeth together, ignoring the complaining of her muscles and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. The pain laced with a sudden dizziness in her head, causing her to freeze in place and gasp for air.

Within seconds, Miranda was at her side, her hands placed on the Commander’s shoulders to keep her from falling over. “You shouldn’t move so much, Shepard. Your body still needs to get used to the implants.”

“It wasn’t this bad last time.” Shepard muttered, trying to shake off the dizziness.

Miranda clicked her tongue and the sound of her voice reminded Shepard of the tone her mother had always used to scold her for being too careless. “Last time we kept you sedated for over a _month_ after the last surgery.” When the older woman didn’t show any indication that she was about to faint, she let go of her shoulders, taking a step back in order to eye her critically. “I told General Hackett that whatever kind of dinner plans he had for you would have to wait. First we have to get you used to actual food again.”

Shepard’s stomach clenched at the mention of actual food and she wasn’t sure if it was because she felt really hungry all of a sudden or if it was because she’d hardly been able to stomach anything the last weeks. “I need clothes first.” She finally decided, before she carefully placed her feet on the floor. Her legs gave in underneath her the second she tried to stand and she clung to Miranda for support. “Fuck,” she hissed and sunk back against the bed.

“I’d tell you to stay in bed but obviously you won’t listen.” The scientist said, though the disapproving look on her face was rendered useless when a small smile tugged at her lips. She handed the Commander a pile of clothes and then, wordlessly crossed the room to fetch the crutches that someone had leant against the wall.

It took her several minutes to get into the clothes, brows knitting together in a frown when she realised that they had decided to give her civvies instead of the uniform. Among them was the comfortable sweater from the Trafalgar though, so she decided to bear with it until she figured out who she could ask for a change of clothes. Once dressed, she reached for the crutches and tried to ignore the way Miranda hovered next to her as though she was waiting for her to stumble and fall. I turned out to be a piece of work to even get to the door of the medbay and she had to grit her teeth to keep a pained moan from escaping her mouth. Only when they were already halfway at the lift, she realised that she had no idea where she was even headed. “I can show you where the crew quarters are.” Miranda chimed in and Shepard nodded a quiet thanks. She was glad that her friend seemed to know what was going on in her head without to ask first. It was the same unspoken understanding that she had come to have with most of her crewmembers, the same intuition that had allowed them to take down any foe who had dared to cross their path. She had found out years ago that the most efficient ground team was the one that didn’t need the comm to know each other’s movements. Especially Samara had become a master in reading her body language, ducking whenever Shepard was about to take a shot at an enemy behind her and moving in to cover her whenever she was reloading. They had perfected the routine to the point where they had been able to accomplish entire missions without a single word spoken.

Samara, she hadn’t heard anything from the Justicar but she firmly believed that the Asari was still alive. Anyone who had seen Samara in action knew that she could survive just about anything. Her biotics that were almost as powerful as Jack’s, combined with her shooting skills and hundreds of years of experience made her into an unstoppable force.

Miranda led her down the corridor that opened to a different part of the deck. With the ship being several times larger than the Normandy, it also had more room for crew quarters. They passed by three doors to the left before Miranda stopped to open the door. The chatter that had filled the room died out the moment they stepped through the door. Wide eyes focused on them and then everyone was scrambling to get to their feet and salute. Shepard didn’t need to turn around to know that the same amused smile lingered on the scientist’s features. “At ease.” She quickly mumbled, feeling a twinge of irritation when instead of going back to whatever they had been doing before, the room stayed silent. It was obvious how hard everyone was trying not to stare at her and the same anxious self-consciousness took a hold of her mind. “Are you sure these are the quarters General Hackett assigned me?”

It was one of the soldiers who answered before Miranda got the chance to: “The quarters for the superior officers are further down the corridor, ma’am. You might want to try the fifth door to the left.”

The scientist looked all too innocent, when Shepard glanced up at her. “Thank you, private. Carry on, then.”

The cabin Hackett had picked out for her wasn’t nearly as big as her quarters on the Normandy. She’d never thought she’d miss ‘the loft’ as they called it, it had always been too spacious for her. Now she thought that she should’ve appreciated the luxury of it more thoroughly. Without the fish tank and the large window like screen this cabin looked a lot colder and less welcoming. The bed was smaller than the one on the Normandy too but at least it was a lot more comfortable than the one in the medbay. With a sigh she sank onto the edge of the mattress.

Miranda seemed hesitant, lingering in the door as though she wasn’t sure if she was welcome at all. Before Shepard could invite her in though, she said: “I should get back to work. If there’s anything you need, Shepard, send me a message.”

The Commander nodded. “Thank you, Miranda, for everything.”

The scientist’s usually so smug smile, was replaced by a strangely serious expression. “You helped me get my sister away from my father, twice. I owed you for that.”

 

 

The following weeks were nothing but torture. Between physical therapy, reading and signing reports from Alliance and Alien operatives alike, she barely found the time to even think and in a way she was grateful for that. Miranda had done amazing work with the implants but her body recovered far slower than she’d hoped. The only good thing about the various exercises the doctors put her through was that they usually left her exhausted enough to fall asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow at the end of her shift. There was progress, however small it was and Shepard was sure that it was the one thing that truly kept her sane. After the first fortnight she was able to walk across the room without the crutches, after the second she made it from the medbay to the lift and back before she collapsed. It bugged her that her biotics didn’t work at all, no matter what biotic AMP she tried but Doctor Takumi reassured her that it was perfectly natural for her body to try and work around the physical damage first before it reactivated her powers. She still wasn’t permitted to even enter the armoury, much less pick up a weapon, no matter how often she claimed that she only wanted to feel the familiar weight in her hands.

“It’s not that I don’t trust you,” Miranda had said at some point when she’d had enough of Shepard’s whining. “It’s just that you’re a magnet for trouble. The moment you pick up a gun something will happen and you’ll have to actually use it. The recoil alone would be too much for your muscles to handle.” Shepard’s argument that trouble usually found her whether she was armed or not, didn’t do anything to weaken her resolve. So she settled on fighting her way through therapy, feeling a little more broken every time she dragged her aching body back to her quarters. She tried her best not to wonder just how self-destructive she appeared, though she was getting more and more fed up with people telling her when to eat and sleep.

General Hackett called her up to his quarters at the end of the fifth week for the dinner he’d promised her and she was infinitely glad that her body had gotten used to actual food again, when she saw that Hackett had somehow managed to procure what had to be the most divine steak she’d ever tasted. It was only when he brought out a small strawberry pie and two glasses of gin that a hint of suspicion sparked in her mind. She didn’t let it keep her from digging into the pie however. It was her favourite, always reminded her of the pie her father used to bake back on Mindoir though she couldn’t recall how it had tasted. Shepard remained careful with the alcohol, knowing that she probably couldn’t hold her drink as well in her condition. “What’s all this about, sir? An unofficial victory celebration?” The thought made the food taste stale on her tongue. It still didn’t feel like a victory to her, not the kind of victory she’d secretly hoped for, they’d lost too much for that.

The older man only shook his head. “I will order the dreadnoughts to return to earth in a few days. We’ve waited long enough; I don’t think there will be any more ships arriving.”

Shepard swallowed thickly. She knew this would happen eventually but to hear it from his mouth, that there was no hope for any more ships to have survived the battle against the reapers, made it incredibly more real. “A few days, sir?” The words left her mouth before she could stop them and the desperation was so obvious in her tone that she winced at her own voice. “Sir, the Normandy could still be out there. You said it yourself, there’s a chance she was only knocked off course when the shockwave hit the Relay. She could be on her way to these coordinates right now…”

Hackett gave her a look that was all understanding and no pity. It was one of the many reasons she admired this man so much, he knew that she didn’t want pity so he didn’t show her any. He knew what she was feeling, knew how it was to lose both those close to him and those under his command. “It’s been months, Commander, and there’s been no sign of the Normandy. We can’t stay here forever on the offhand chance that they might still be out there somewhere.”

Closing her eyes for a moment, she nodded, knowing that there was nothing else for her to do but agree. Taking a deep breath, she reached for the glass of gin and downed the rest in one go before holding it out to the General to refill. He did, without giving her one disapproving look and she was incredibly grateful for that. “About your promotion, Shepard. It seems that I am indeed the highest ranking officer left in the Alliance so there’s no one left to object my proposition, even if there were I doubt anyone would after everything that you’ve done for humanity, for everyone. I expect you in the mess hall tomorrow at 1800 hours in formal uniform. We might not have much to go with but people will see this as a sign. You’ve given them hope when they had none, I want them to know that the Alliance honours you for it. You haven’t changed your mind about this, have you?”

She hurried to shake her head, taking another sip of the gin. “No, sir. I’m still not convinced I’m the best candidate for the position but I am honoured that you trust me this much. I’ll do my best.”

“I know you will.” The General leant back in his chair and reached for his own glass. “Every soldier on this ship trusts you, Shepard. I dare say every Alliance soldier does. They probably trust you more than me, after all you were the one who sacrificed herself for all of them.”

Shepard remained quiet for a moment. “I did what everyone would’ve done. This victory isn’t on me alone. Everyone had a part of it and without them I couldn’t have done it.”

Hackett gave her a little nod but didn’t reply to her words. They sat in silence for a while, emptying the bottle of gin together until Shepard could feel herself growing more and more lightheaded. It was a nice feeling, the thoughts about the Normandy suddenly so far away. For some reason she thought that the General had only indulged her because he knew that she could use an evening without pain and she hoped that the alcohol would prove effective in warding off the nightmares that haunted her sleeping hours. She swayed on her feet when she returned to her quarters later, resting most of her weight on the crutches but at least she managed not to stumble more than once. She didn’t even bother to take off her uniform, simply wriggled out of her boots before crawling under the covers.

Garrus, she thought as she was staring up at the ceiling, her stomach twisting and dizziness invading her mind, what would you think of me? She was a mess, there was no way around it, even a fancy new rank wouldn’t change that. And it had to be obvious, not only in the way she was still dragging herself around the ship with the help of the crutches but it had to resonate in her voice, in her stance. She wondered if her pain was written so clearly across her face that no one dared to mention it. Somehow the alcohol only worked to lighten her mood as long as she was around someone else, the moment she found herself alone with the silence of her quarters, it dragged her mind into a different direction entirely. Once more she thought that she should’ve died on the Citadel. It would’ve been a storybook ending, wouldn’t it? She would’ve been remembered as a hero, a martyr, not as the wreck of a woman who had deluded herself into thinking she could save anyone. And wasn’t that the worst part? She never could save anyone. Not her parents, not her squad on Akuze, not Ashley or Mordin or Thane and now not even the Normandy crew. Whenever she thought she’d done something right, it turned out a mistake and punched her in the face. A fine hero she was.

 

The next day greeted her with a throbbing headache. For some reason her alarm didn’t go off, probably because Hackett had been thoughtful enough to cancel her therapy for the day so she wouldn’t be a complete mess. It left her with too much time on her hands though. Even after she had showered and dressed in the parade uniform, she still had several hours before Hackett expected her. Without anything else to do, she found herself wandering the crew deck until she found the observation lounge. It was still her favourite spot on every ship, simply sitting near the screen and looking out into the emptiness of space seemed to fill her head with a strangely comforting mixture of nostalgia and melancholy. She pulled up her omni-tool to write a message to Quintus and then one to Jack. She still hadn’t been able to contact Grunt or Samara and she tried her hardest to believe that they were alive, just outside the comm buoy network. Shepard hesitated for a tiny moment before she opened the message feed that was titled ‘Garrus’. After a long moment of simply staring at the barrage of messages she’d written, she took a deep breath and slowly started typing.

 

_FS: Garrus. This will probably be the last message I’m sending you. At least if I can convince myself to let go of this habit. No promises there. But I will try, I know you wouldn’t want me to turn into a weeping widow over your death. I’m not sure if I’m still the person you fell in love with but I will try to be the soldier you loved me as. Hackett is promoting me to Admiral. I know what you would say if you were here ‘Will it ever be enough for you, Shepard?’. Kaidan would probably say something along the lines of ‘You just have to outrank me, do you?’. I just know that Liara would be excited, probably more than any of us. I wish you were here. We’re leaving the sector soon to head back to earth because there’s little hope of any other ships arriving. After all the Tenacious was the last ship to leave the Sol system and she’s well on her way to Palaven by now. I knew that there was no real hope of you coming back to me but it feels a lot more final now. I’ll always love you. Farewell._

 

Her finger hovered over the ‘send’ button for what seemed like forever before she finally sent the message. With a sigh, she leant back against the screen, angling her head until she could see outside. The second dreadnaught was almost out of view, half concealed by the colourful space nebula that had once been the reason why many passenger ships took a detour through this system. Shepard wondered if it was her exhausted mind or the screen that made the colours look dull and greyish, probably her head. The buzzing of her omni-tool interrupted her thoughts. Once she realised just how much time had passed, she hurried to reach for the crutches and limp towards the door. She stopped at one of the crew bathrooms to throw a critical look at her reflection in the mirror. She didn’t look as bad as she had when she’d left the Tenacious but still she felt that her appearance barely resembled the Commander Shepard she’d been before all of this. She quietly thanked Miranda for her ‘morning after’ pills that at least made her eyes look less red and puffy and her skin tone closer to her usual light brown. She’d never gotten used to wearing parade uniforms, not after almost two decades of serving with the Alliance. It didn’t help that this one was actually made to fit her, it was still uncomfortable and an utterly bad choice for a soldier in her opinion. Sure, there usually was no need for full armour as long as they weren’t headed into battle but she’d always believed that one should at least be prepared to defend the ship if the unexpected happened. And the standard issue uniforms offered a lot more protection and agility than the tightly cut parade uniforms.

With a sigh, she headed towards the mess hall, trying to push aside the question if this was really a good idea. There was no way back, she wanted to help people, wanted to help rebuild what had been lost and this was the best way to do it. Hackett was right, the people believed in her and she wouldn’t let them down. Not this time. Once she reached the doors, she straightened her shoulders, trying to regain at least some of her posture. The room was filled to the brim and Shepard felt a wave of anxiety crush into her. Where was her usual authority? Her ability to open her mouth in front of thousands and give a speech that would rouse their courage? Her instinct to show everyone just how strong she still was fought with her fear that they would all see right through the cracks in her façade. She approached Miranda who was lingering at the back of the room, leaning against the wall, seemingly not particularly interested in the happenings.

“This is it, isn’t it, Shepard? The first human spectre and now an Alliance Admiral. I’m sure the Illusive Man would claim he knew all along that was going to happen. He always claimed you were humankind’s greatest hope. I really thought he was exaggerating; guess he was right in one thing at least.” She raised an eyebrow when Shepard simply shrugged. “I read your report about what happened on the Citadel. You did the right thing in killing him. No matter what he once was, it doesn’t make up for all the death and misery he’s caused.”

Shepard nodded quietly, wondering if it was really that easy for Miranda to say her goodbyes to the man she had served for so long. After all they had been working together quite closely. But then again the Illusive Man had betrayed all of them, especially Miranda by working with her father and endangering her sister in the process. “He had it coming. I still can’t believe he thought he could control the reapers.” The image of the Catalyst appeared before her eyes, the choice it had given her to control the reapers herself. The right answer had seemed so obvious at that time; she’d been so sure that destroying the reapers would be the only way. And yet she couldn’t help but wonder what would’ve happened had she chosen otherwise. She would’ve died, absorbed into the reaper conscious but what then? Would she have been able to save the Normandy? She forced herself to stop the train of thoughts before it could carry her away. “I’m glad you’re here, Miranda.” She admitted and to her surprise Miranda only brushed a hand against her arm in silent support.

General Hackett chose that moment to call the crowd to order. While everyone was standing at attention, he mentioned for Shepard to step forward. She took a deep breath, steadying herself for what was to come and then, in a moment of confidence handed Miranda her crutches. Slowly, she made her way up to the General, trying her best to keep her straight posture as she dragged her feet across the floor. The walk seemed to take forever, her limbs protesting but she made it and the tiniest bit of pride flooded her system. She would stand in front of these people as someone who deserved to lead them not just a broken war hero who was being honoured out of pity.

Despite Hackett’s serious expression, Shepard could see the pride in his eyes as well. He was the reason she was here, the one who had recommended her for the N7 program and her promotion to Commander. “Commander Shepard, do you know why you are here?”

She pressed her heels together and saluted, forcing her hand to remain steady as she tried to hold the position. “Yes, sir.”

The older man had obviously decided to spare them the boring routine and skipped several parts of the litany the promotion of an Admiral usually entailed. “You’re here because I have decided to bestow upon you the rank of Admiral Shepard. Will you accept this promotion, Commander?”

Shepard swallowed thickly but the determination bubbling up in her chest reflected in her features and she remained perfectly still. “Yes, sir, I will.”

“Are you aware of the responsibilities that come with this position?”

If anyone was aware of the responsibilities that came with taking commands, it was her, she thought bitterly. Her voice however was clear when she answered once more: “Yes, sir, I am. I will fulfil them to the best of my abilities. If the people will follow me, then I will lead them.”

That earned her a cheer from the crew members gathered in the mess and she felt the seed of pride taking root in her heart. “Well then, I look forward to working with you, Admiral Shepard.” Hackett stepped forward to fasten the small gold stars to her shoulders, then took a step backwards and saluted as well.

Shepard nodded. “Thank you, General Hackett, Sir.” A breath of relief escaped her lips as she finally lowered her arm. Turning around to face the crowd, she tried to remember what she had meant to say. The words were frozen on her tongue, all thoughts wiped from her head as she found herself looking at faces filled with trust and admiration. She didn’t deserve this, she thought, any of this. There were others more worthy of the rank, of this position. “Defeating the reapers wasn’t my victory. It was yours, ours. We had a lot of help, honestly I didn’t have much hope in the beginning but when it was necessary everyone stood together to fight. We all fought side by side, Alliance soldiers, Turians, Asari, Salarians, Krogans and many others. And we showed everyone that it is possible to look past prejudices and distrust because we are stronger together. I am proud to be serving with soldiers like you.” The little speech sounded a lot less eloquent than it had in her mind but that didn’t seem to matter as the room burst into cheers.

Overwhelmed, she only realised that she was swaying on her feet, when Miranda appeared next to her, pushing the crutches back into her hands. “Well spoken, now get your arse back to medbay before you faint.” Shepard gave her a grateful look, when the doctor manoeuvred her out of the mess hall and into the deserted corridor. Her heart was pounding in her chest and her palms sweaty both from the exhaustion of standing without the crutches and the emotional strain of the entire ceremony. Once again she was glad that Hackett had decided to do it now and with only the dreadnought’s crew present. She doubted she would’ve been able to speak in front of a larger crowd in an even more formal setting.

The quiet of the medbay was like a soothing balm for her mind and she found herself drifting off while Miranda ran her usual tests. Shepard longed for another drink, something to numb her mind enough that she could fall asleep but she didn’t dare to mention it to the scientist, knowing that the other would disapprove. She was grateful when the examination was concluded and, being certain that Hackett would forgive her for disappearing from her own ceremony, dragged herself back to her quarters. Despite the exhaustion settling deep in her bones she found herself unable to fall asleep so she grabbed her datapad to read over the latest reports. It was a depressing matter as most of those reports contained the number of ships and people lost in the battle but there were also plans to start rebuilding. The Asari informed her that they had decided to retake the Citadel though they had chosen to leave it above earth for the time being until they could figure out how to move it back to the Serpent Nebula. It would take time and a lot of effort to bring the space station back to its former glory but they had hope that the Keepers would once again be of use, after all they had helped with the reconstruction after the fight against Sovereign. Shepard wondered what had become of her apartment and saved a reminder to search for the recordings of his biography that Anderson had left scattered across the place if she ever got the chance. She hoped that it was still intact, mostly because it was the last place she had left that was coloured with good memories.

After the fourth report the words started dancing on the page and she placed the notepad back on the night table. She still didn’t feel like sleeping, didn’t feel like facing the visions that would doubtlessly return once she closed her eyes. So instead she got up, grabbed the crutches and made her way to the observation deck. It would’ve been foolish to think her thoughts wouldn’t catch up with her there but somehow it was easier to face them when she was staring into the vastness of space than in the loneliness of her private quarters. Shepard didn’t even realise she was falling asleep, curled up against the view screen. How unbecoming of an Admiral, she thought but she couldn’t bring up the energy to move from her spot. Hoping that no one would find her, she let the arms of sleep drag her under.

 

 

It was only a day left until they would set course for earth once more and Shepard felt the anxiety gnawing away at her brain. She knew it was simply a delusion of her mind, her denial clinging to that last spark of hope that she hadn’t been able to stomp out, but it felt wrong. The more time passed, the more she thought that she shouldn’t just abandon her team, that she should give them this chance to make a miracle happen. But miracles were rare these days, maybe she’d simply used up all of her luck, though she couldn’t say she felt like a terribly lucky person. The promotion didn’t change much in her routine, only that after the hours of torturous therapy she now met up with General Hackett every evening to talk about reports and orders. It was a strange sensation to know that her command did not only encompass her ship anymore but the entirety of the Alliance fleet now. But it was the added weight of this responsibility that gave her strength, the knowledge that she had to get her head straight because people were depending on her. It didn’t make things right, didn’t fix the way her insides were still torn and raw but it gave her something else to focus on.

Shepard was just on her way back to her quarters after an especially long and exhausting therapy session, when her omni-tool started buzzing. She startled, almost stumbling over her own feet as she tried to juggle the crutches and pull up the interface at the same time. It was a message from General Hackett, marked as urgent. For some reason she felt her chest constrict, fingers trembling, when she opened it. Hackett asked for her to join him on the bridge, immediately if possible. She didn’t know what it was that made her hurry back to the lift, dragging her feet along with pure force of will. Her muscles were screaming in complaint as she made her way past the galaxy map and to the front of the bridge. “Shepard. There’s something I thought you might want to see.”

She frowned, approaching both Hackett and the pilot, in order to throw a glance at the controls in front of him.

What she saw made her heart skip a beat.

It couldn’t be.

Breath caught in her chest, she found herself staring, wide eyed at the scanner readings. “That is…”

“An Alliance ship, Admiral. It entered the system two hours ago but our scanners didn’t pick it up until now because-“

She didn’t let the pilot finish, chiming in before he could continue: “Because it has advanced cloaking abilities since it’s masking its heat and radiation signatures.” She swallowed thickly, her throat dry all of a sudden and she was unable to tear her gaze away from the screen. “Sir, this is…” Shepard faltered, the thoughts racing in her head and the words wilting on her tongue before she could spit them out. She felt boneless all of a sudden, clinging to her crutches for support and forcing herself to disregard the burning behind her eyes.

Hackett took pity on her, his hand clasping her shoulder in a reassuring gesture. “We can’t be certain until she comes into range but as the Normandy is the only ship with this cloaking system that we know, it is most likely her.”

Shepard shook her head. “I know it. It’s her, it’s the Normandy.” She turned towards the pilot, her previously stuttering heart now beating wildly in her chest. “Try to set up a transmission. How long until they reach us if they stay on course?”

“Aye, ma’am. Our previous attempts have been unsuccessful but I’ll keep trying. According to the scanner about seven hours.”

She frowned, trying her best to regain at least some of her composure before turning towards Hackett again. “We should set a course for the Normandy. We don’t know how much damage she’s taken; they could be in need of assistance.”

The older man nodded in agreement. “Lieutenant Darwin, set an intercept course for the ship. I want every station on high alert until we know for sure what’s on this ship, have doctor Song prepare the medbay in case we have a medical emergency.”

The pilot hurried to follow the commands, announcing a few seconds later: “Approximately three hours to intercept, sir.”

“Good.” Hackett squeezed Shepard’s shoulder, obviously noticing her distress. “There’s hope yet, Shepard. I’ll see you in three hours.”

She lingered a little longer after he had left the bridge, not quite sure what to do with herself. “Lieutenant, I want you to keep me informed about anything that comes up on the scanners. Keep trying to get them on the comm.” She didn’t realise how much she was trembling until she limped back to the lift. Her legs threatened to give out underneath her, hands desperately clinging to the clutches to keep her upright. As soon as she was back on the crew deck, she slunk against the wall and pulled up her omni-tool. Nothing. No messages, no transmission. She couldn’t get her hopes up, there was no way of saying what was waiting for her aboard the Normandy. For all she knew EDI could be the only one left, steering the ship on her own after the crew had perished. If EDI had even made it, being a synthetic the Crucible would’ve targeted her as well. Shepard had never been a religious person, never believed in god or the spirits or any higher entity but in this moment she found herself praying to no one in particular. She wasn’t sure if she had the right to beg for a miracle but she did nevertheless.

The following three hours seemed to be the longest of her entire life. She tried to take her time showering and getting dressed but it didn’t nearly waste as much time as she’d hoped. In the end she found herself alternately pacing until her legs started complaining and checking her omni-tool just in case she’d missed something. There was still nothing, no news, no messages. The pilot reassured her that they were trying their very best to contact the other ship but had yet to receive an answer to their hails. When she couldn’t find anything else to keep her occupied with, she returned to the CIC. With a ‘thank you’ she sank into the chair the pilot had offered her, her eyes glued to the view screen. There she was, as beautiful as always. The Normandy’s design was unmistakeable, her slim form, that Cerberus had altered only the slightest bit. Home, she found herself thinking, swallowing down the strange feeling of nostalgia. It had been over four months - or has it been five already - since she left the ship and yet it felt like she’d been gone for years.

“Twenty minutes to intercept.” The pilot finally announced, his words shortly followed by the familiar tread of Hackett’s boots behind her.

She swivelled the chair around to face him, making an attempt to get back to her feet but he gestured for her to remain seated. “Put the ship on high alert. Have the boarding party report in, I want everyone on their stations.”

Shepard swallowed thickly. “Sir, I request to be part of the boarding party.”

The General only glanced at her, though there was no irritation visible on his features. “Request denied, Admiral. You haven’t been cleared for duty and you’re obviously in no shape to take part in a potentially dangerous mission.”

Knowing quite well, that he was right on all accounts, she gritted her teeth and nodded. Of course, if their roles were reversed, she wouldn’t grant the request either. Yet with the anxiety tearing her apart the thought of being forced to sit here and wait was terrifying. She forced herself to calm down only to jump when the comm cracked and a familiar voice filled the bridge. The transmission quality was bad and the words were barely recognisable through the static but it was unmistakeable who was speaking to them.

“This is General Tali’Zorah vas Normandy, acting Captain of the Normandy. Request permission to come aboard.” Shepard felt her heart leap in her chest, the sound of Tali’s voice flooding her system with relief.

Hackett’s hand was once more on her shoulder and she wasn’t exactly sure if the gesture was meant to calm her or convey that she wasn’t the only one who was glad about the Normandy’s safe return. “This is General Hackett. Permission granted. It’s good to hear from you, Normandy. Welcome back.”

“Thank you, General.” The transmission was cut off before either of them could say another word. The pilot informed them that they detected severe damage to the Normandy’s systems but enough life signs to account for most of the crew. Shepard found herself remaining in her seat, eyes boring into the screen and her hands trembling as Hackett ordered the boarding party to stand down but remain on alert. The Normandy floated closer and the many blackened scars that graced its hull made her heart ache. She didn’t dare to breathe when the frigate finally docked and the General left the bridge to head to the port exit instead. Her first instinct had been to jump out of the chair and follow General Hackett but instead she was frozen in place. Even when the pilot informed her that there didn’t seem to be any medical emergencies, only minor injuries, amongst the Normandy crew, she could do nothing but nod numbly. She couldn’t know what was awaiting her when she went to greet her crew, couldn’t know who was there and who hadn’t made it. And this time it would truly be final. If Garrus wasn’t with them, then… Shepard left the thought unfinished, knowing that in the worst case she’d have to face it anyway.

“Ma’am, General Hackett requests your presence in the debriefing room on deck three.” The pilot’s voice tore through her thoughts and a glance at the view screen confirmed that she’d sat idly for too long already. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath before heaving herself out of the chair. Her hands were shaking when she reached for the crutches but her walk was as straight as it could be in her condition. She didn’t falter once on her way to the lift and down to the lower deck, her chest filled with anticipation and fear. Forcing herself to swallow her doubt, she hesitated for a split second in front of the door before she touched the glowing panel.

She stopped dead in her tracks. The room was filled with complete silence now. All eyes were on her but Shepard couldn’t see any of the people occupying the chairs, the people she held so dear. She only had eyes for that one person standing at the far end of the room, next to General Hackett. He’d turned around at the sound of the door and she could see the emotions flitting over his face. Surprise, confusion and then overwhelming relief. The crutches clattered to the ground, as she took another careful step forward. She didn’t get any farther as he was suddenly right in front of her, his arms wrapping around her to pull her into a tight embrace. He was squeezing her too tightly, cutting off her air but she didn’t care; she was clinging to him for dear life. “Shepard… Falcon.” His voice was music to her ears, spreading through her veins and filling her mind with the most wonderful thought that he was truly alive, that he was _here._

She felt tears sting in her eyes but didn’t bother trying to force them down. “Garrus.” She whispered, repeating his name until she could finally believe that this was real and not just another morbid dream her mind had cooked up. “Garrus, oh Garrus.”

He drew back a bit only to take her face in his hands and press his forehead to hers in what she knew was the Turian’s way to express his affection. His breath fanned over her face and she lost herself in his eyes that spoke of so much pain. “Falcon, I thought you were dead.”

His words seemed to break something inside her and suddenly she was laughing, a breathless, almost hysteric laughter that fell from her lips ere she could stop it. ‘You’re not the only one’ she wanted to say but instead she flung her arms around his neck and started kissing his cheeks, his scars, the corners of his mouth. “I’m here.” She murmured and the laughter died down, when her lips lingered on the plates of his mouth. “I’m here, Garrus.” She pulled back a bit to look at him, her voice still trembling when she added: “And I’m not letting you go again. Not ever.”

“Good.” Garrus only breathed, subvocals clearly out of sync though as always she was unable to tell what it meant. His fingers brushed over her cheeks to wipe away the treacherous tears escaping her eyes and Shepard wished she could wipe away the sadness from his features as well.

They only broke their embrace when someone cleared their throat audibly. “Admiral Shepard.” She almost stumbled over her own feet when she took a step backwards, then leant down to retrieve her crutches. It took her a painstakingly long time to straighten herself out again, leaning heavily on the aids to support her weight and she knew all too well that everyone was watching her. Garrus’ hand lingered on her waist, protectively, almost possessively as though he was afraid she’d disappear again as soon as he let go of her. She glanced around the room, chest aching in relief as she found herself looking upon familiar faces. Liara, Kaidan, Joker, James, Tali, Steve. She kept searching them for injuries but found none. She wanted to ask where EDI was but didn’t dare to, so she remained quiet, glancing from one to the other and waiting for someone else to speak up.

Liara was the first to raise her voice, standing up and approaching her with the same grace her movements always contained. “It is good to see you again, Shepard. I had feared we had lost you, we all did.” Shepard wanted to reach out for her but feared that her legs would give in without the support of the crutches. The Asari noticed her hesitation and without another word wrapped her arms around her in a gentle hug. Overwhelmed, Shepard could only rest her chin on the other’s shoulder, breathing in her familiar, flowery scent. Liara had always had a way of calming her down with a mere touch and she found that she could breathe easier now. When Liara stepped back, Shepard felt a hand on her shoulder.

Turning her head, she found Vega, the grin on his face as wide as it could possibly be and she could practically feel the happy relief radiating off him. “I’m glad you made it, Lola. You still gotta teach me a few things before I’m qualified for the N7.”

Kaidan was next, he too enveloping her in a hug but she noticed his hesitation as though he wasn’t quite sure if he was allowed to touch her like this after everything that had happened. It was less awkward than she’d feared and she hoped that her smile was enough to convey to Kaidan everything that she couldn’t put into words. She’d forgiven him, she loved him still and cared for him as a close friend. He returned the smile and she bit her tongue before she could tell him that he looked a hundred times more handsome without the grim expression. Garrus’ grip around her waist tightened the tiniest bit and when she glanced at the Turian she found an expression on his face that she couldn’t quite decipher. 

She didn’t have the time to ponder over it, when Tali came flying into her arms, obviously having waited impatiently for this very moment. “Shepard! I knew you were not dead, I knew it!” It was strange, sometimes it was obvious that Tali had grown up into a fine adult, deserving of her title as General but sometimes Shepard thought to catch a glimpse of that young Quarian she’d picked up years ago when she had still been on her pilgrimage. Now that she was clinging to the human like her life depended on it, Shepard felt the overwhelming urge to protect her, the same strange motherly instinct that she’d always had around Tali, resurfacing again.

“Finally someone who had faith in me.” She joked, trying to swallow around the lump in her throat and lighten the mood a bit.

Tali pulled back and gave her what was presumably a serious expression, not that it was all that visible with her helmet. “I always have faith in you, Shepard. Everyone who doesn’t is a Bosh’tet.”

Shepard found her lips twitching into a smile and she looked up at Garrus at that. “You hear that, Vakarian, you’re a Bosh’tet.”

The Quarian shook her head, probably at her pronunciation and only let go of her arms, when Joker complained about ‘everyone but him getting the chance to greet the Commander’. She considered for a moment to mention that it wasn’t Commander anymore but then kept her tongue in check, moving instead to lean her head against Joker’s shoulder. “Look at that, I’m not the only cripple here.” The man joked and gave a little shrug at Shepard’s raised eyebrow. “Gotta enjoy it while it lasts. It’s nice not being the only one who limps around like a lame chicken.”

She shook her head, the smile falling from her lips as she finally dared to ask the question that had been burning on her lips: “EDI, is she…”

Joker waved a hand and the way his expression remained cheerful filled Shepard with relief. The pilot wouldn’t be this happy if the AI was gone. “She’s here. Her mobile platform was damaged beyond repair when the reapers were destroyed, like half the ship but her programs were mostly intact. She fixed herself up pretty well. He brushed a hand over his omni-tool and the familiar voice of the Normandy’s AI filled the debriefing room: “Admiral Shepard. I am relieved to hear that you are alive. How is your condition?”

“I’m alright, EDI. Glad to know you’re okay as well. I was afraid the Crucible had done the same thing to you that it did to most of the Geth.”

The AI was quiet for a little moment before she said: “The Crucible targeted every Synthetic but it seems its main focus were the reapers. As I was part of the ship, most of my programs remained intact.”

Hackett interrupted them before Shepard could reply, addressing the AI directly: “From your reports it appears that the ship has been badly damaged as well.”

“Yes, General Hackett. There has been severe structural damage, the communications and weapons systems are offline. We were only able to connect with you for a little moment upon arriving by rerouting power from the engine,” EDI explained and Shepard couldn’t help but sneak a glance at Garrus’ wrist, only to notice that the omni-tool bracelet was missing. It had probably been damaged by the shockwave too, which explained why he didn’t reply to any of her messages. She sighed quietly. If only she had known that he was alive, that they were alive, the last months would’ve been so much easier to stand. She wondered for a little moment if she would’ve had accepted the position of Admiral had she known about the Normandy being safely on her way to the rendezvous point but then pushed the thought aside. It was impossible to say what she would or wouldn’t have done and it wasn’t important, what mattered was the here and now.

The meeting was ended with the conclusion that the Normandy crew would submit proper reports on their escape from the shockwave and their journey to meet with the rest of the fleet. Hackett offered them quarters on the Elbrus but they all politely declined. Even Kaidan opted to stay on the Normandy while Liara announced that she would go anywhere, Shepard went. It surprised her a bit as she’d thought that Liara would want to return to Thessia as soon as possible, though she felt warmth bubbling up in her chest at the thought of having her family around her for a bit longer. One after the other they left the debriefing room to head back to the Normandy, only Garrus remained stoically at her side. Steve was the last to go, making his way over to them first. “Shepard. I know you’ve heard that more than once today but it’s good to have you back. You helped me to find meaning again when I thought I couldn’t go on anymore. I’m not proud to say that at some point I wished the reapers would kill me but you put my head right again and I’m grateful for that. If you want me I would prefer to keep serving on the Normandy. After all you need a capable shuttle pilot.”

Shepard was sure the last comment was aimed at her non-existent flying skills and hurried to lean her crutch against her left arm in order to take the pilot’s offered hand. “Of course, Cortez, the Normandy wouldn’t be the same without you.” She didn’t mention that she wasn’t entirely sure she herself would return to the Normandy. Hackett and her had talked about where she would go once she was declared fit for duty again. He’d brought up the possibility of her leading what remained of the second, third and fifth fleet as he had been convinced that she would prefer to remain in space instead of rebuilding the Alliance headquarters on earth. They obviously hadn’t even considered the Normandy since they had been certain that the ship had been destroyed but now… the thought of assuming command of her ship once more was enticing and there was no place she’d rather be.

Steve nodded, the smile on his face genuine, as he thanked her and turned to leave as well. Silence fell heavily on their shoulders once the pilot had left and Shepard found herself readjusting her stance, instinctively trying to rest as little of her weight on the crutches as possible. Garrus noticed, brushing his fingers over her cheek as his other hand remained fixed on her waist. “Tell me what happened.” He demanded, voice gentle but firm and she leant against him, drawing in a breath.

“It’s a long story.”

Garrus hummed, gently pressing his mouth to her forehead. “I have time.”

 

Being back on the Normandy felt strange and yet in a way wonderful. Somehow it really was like coming home after a long trip, breathing in the familiar, slightly dry air and finding oneself surrounding by familiar faces. Shepard felt herself hesitating, even with Garrus at her side, as she made her way past the CIC and towards the lift. The rough landing had damaged not only the exterior of the ship but the interior as well and it sure looked like the ship had just escaped a heated battle. The galaxy map was still there but the image was flickering in and out of existence. The lighting was dimmer than she remembered but she wasn’t sure if she wasn’t simply imagining that. The lift groaned in complaint, a noise that had her throw Garrus a look of shock but the Turian only shrugged. “It’s been acting up ever since Joker crash-landed us. But EDI says it’s still almost fully functional.”

She wasn’t sure if that was really enough to reassure her but she trusted the AI’s judgement. She took a deep breath before stepping out of the lift, her gaze falling immediately upon the memorial. She stopped dead in her tracks when she spotted her own name there, placed above that of Admiral Anderson. The sight was strangely surreal and she found herself limping closer, instinctively holding her crutch with the left hand and reaching out to trace the plaque with her fingertips. “You really thought I was dead,” she mumbled and the thought that Garrus went through the same pain that she’d experienced when she’d counted the Normandy among the casualties, made her heart ache.

“It was hell,” he whispered, his hand a comforting weight on her shoulder. “I thought about your last words every hour of every day but they didn’t help. I was lost without you.” He reached out with his other hand, brushing his fingers over hers and over her name engraved in the metal. Quietly, almost inaudibly he finally added: “I wasn’t sure how I should live without you.”

Shepard shivered, wanting to tell him how similar her thoughts had been but not finding the right words to express it. Instead she plucked her name from the memorial. For a moment she considered destroying the plaque but then she placed it in his hand. The ‘In case you need it’ remained unspoken and before Garrus could say anything else, she stood on her tiptoes and slung his arms around his neck to pull him into a kiss. There was no trace of the awkwardness that had marked their first kisses left in the way he slipped his tongue past her lips to tangle with her own. Despite the gesture being foreign to most Turians, he’d learnt all too quickly how to make her knees melt, just like he had studied her body as though it was a treasure map. She hummed, relishing the feeling of finally having him back in her arms. If it was up to her they could’ve stayed like this for hours but the crew deck and especially the memorial really wasn’t the right place for that. With a sigh, she untangled herself from him, pecking the corner of his mouth before reaching for her crutches again.

She still hadn’t come to terms with her condition, still felt shame wallow up inside her when she felt the pity in the other soldiers’ looks. In a way Garrus made her feel even more insecure. He didn’t give her the same sympathy as the others but she could see in his eyes that he blamed himself whenever he looked at her. Shepard had told him that he didn’t have to treat her like she was made of glass but the way he touched her was still too careful, too gentle. It seemed to tear her apart but she tried to push it away, focusing on the many other thoughts occupying her mind. “Let’s go.” She tore her gaze away from the memorial, from Anderson’s name that seemed to stare back at her with an accusing glint.

It was the medbay that lightened her mood a bit, or to be more precise, the sight of doctor Chakwas. The older woman was bent over her table, typing something but looked up when the door slid open. “I heard that you were here, Shepard. I really didn’t think you’d make it this time.” It was the same thing everybody else said, the same surprise though Shepard thought it was different with Chakwas because they’d known each other for so long. “You never cease to surprise me, do you?” Chakwas had been there for her in her early days of Alliance training, after Akuze, after the Collectors had destroyed the SR-1, hell she’d known her for longer than anyone else had, excluding Anderson and Hackett.

“I aim to please.” Shepard found herself smiling again and she was sure she’d never smiled so much in her life as she had on this day alone. She wasn’t known for her smiles or her laughter, on the contrary, she’d been dubbed ‘Shepard who never smiles’ in basic training and had truly lived up to that name through the years. “You better still have that brandy because I was looking forward to that.”

Chakwas reached into one of the drawers and produced the bottle, triumphantly holding it up. “It’s just waiting for you, old friend.”

“Miranda expects me to be back on the Elbrus in an hour for the torture she calls therapy. I don’t think she’d be very happy to find me here instead and I remember too well what happened the last time.” Chakwas threw her a smile that was entirely innocent even though she’d been the one passed out on one of the beds in her own medbay the last time they’d shared a bottle Serrice Ice Brandy. Shepard also remembered all too well how much she’d been swaying on her feet as she’d made her way to the gunnery station afterwards. Judging from the way Garrus cleared his throat behind her, he too recalled her very clumsy seduction attempt that had ended in him half carrying, half dragging her to her cabin so she could sleep off the intoxication. Shepard shook her head. “I’ll have to ask for a raincheck, Chakwas.”

The doctor only shrugged and placed the bottle back in the drawer. “Whenever you have time, Shepard. I’ve been saving it for so long it won’t hurt to wait a bit longer. Remind Miss Lawson to send me your reports. I assume you will be transferring back to the Normandy soon?”

She swallowed and then nodded. Though it felt wrong to lie to the doctor she didn’t want to tell her that she might not return to the Normandy at all. She still had to talk to Hackett first. Since the meeting in the debriefing room earlier that day a thought had been manifesting in her mind but she wasn’t ready to speak it out loud yet.

They left the medbay again and headed back to the lift. Shepard would have to talk to everyone again, especially Liara who had informed her that she would be waiting in her room. She was looking forward to a lengthy conversation with her best friend, to resting her head in Liara’s lap while the Asari combed her fingers through her hair like they’d done it so many times. But that would have to wait until later as she longed to see her cabin again.

It was just as she remembered it, almost like she’d never even left. The room even smelled the same, despite the air filters the distinct scent of the oil she used for her guns seemed to linger, paired with something that her brain instinctively identified as ‘home’. “Oh no.” She sighed, stepping closer to the glass cases she’d kept her collection of model ships in. Several of them had fallen off their hilts, probably due to the crash landing, their remains scattered over her desk.

“I tried to save them,” Garrus muttered behind her, as she carefully picked up what was left of the Turian cruiser and his voice sounded strangely upset. She wondered if he had spent a lot of time up here, thinking that this was all he had left of her and cursing himself for letting them get broken.

Her fingers brushed over the edges, already considering just how she could piece them back together. “It’s not your fault. I’m sure I can fix them.” She didn’t only mean the ships with her words and she knew that Garrus understood. They would be able to fix this, fix them, as long as they were together it would all work out. Shepard carefully placed the piece back onto the desk before heading further into the room. The fish tank was intact and she took a moment to watch the colourful animals. She wasn’t sure whose idea it had even been to install a fish tank in the Captain’s quarters but she’d come to like it. She still missed her space hamster that had disappeared after she’d been forced to leave the Normandy almost a year ago now. One of the Engineers that had worked to refit the ship had probably taken it and she’d figured it would be useless to try and locate it again while the Reapers were threatening the galaxy. Gaze wandering away from the fish tank to her bed, she noticed the crumpled sheets. Garrus had slept here, she thought as she knew for sure that she had made it before the battle. She swallowed the instinct to ask him about it, knowing that it wasn’t important to know the details.

She limped over to the bed and let herself fall onto the mattress, the crutches placed on the floor next to the bed. “Come here.” She held out a hand to the Turian who was still standing awkwardly in the middle of the room. Upon her words, he moved over to her, sitting on the edge of the bed. Shepard hummed, reaching for his arm and pulling him down next to her. “Just stay like this for a bit,” she mumbled, curling herself around him and resting her head on his arm. It wasn’t exactly comfortable, especially since he was still wearing his armour but it was enough for now. He purred, shifting until he could brush his hand through her hair.

“I missed you,” he confessed, his voice a low rumble and his words seemed to burn themselves straight into her heart.

Shepard found herself unable to speak, unable to give voice to the thoughts in her head. There were too many of them, too many things she had to say and she feared that they would all tumble out at once if she opened her mouth. So she remained silent, hoping that Garrus could read the unspoken truth in her eyes. He’d always told her that her face was like an open book, too expressive to make for a good liar. “I’m here,” she finally managed, a weak repeating of what she’d told him earlier. ‘I’ll always be here,’ is what she wanted to add but she knew it was a promise she might not be able to keep.

They lay in silence for a while, not an uncomfortable silence but one that filled her with warmth and a sense of belonging. That was until her omni-tool reminded her that she had to get back to the Elbrus before Miranda showed up to personally drag her to her therapy session. She sighed, leaning over to press a kiss to Garrus’ mandible before climbing out of the bed again. It was an ordeal like everything she did these days was and she felt a wave of insecurity rush through her as she felt his eyes on her back. She fought it down, knowing that she didn’t have to hide anything from him, that he would accept and love her no matter what. “You don’t need to come,” she reminded him though it had to be obvious how much she wanted him to.

“And wait here with nothing to do? No way, Falcon.” He was at her side in an instant, waiting patiently until she had sorted herself out with the crutches and then following her back to the lift. They had just passed the CIC, when he spoke again: “So, Admiral, huh? And here I’d really hoped you’d go for the ‘settling down somewhere warm’ plan.”

Shepard tried her best to keep her voice light. “You know me, Garrus. Could you really see me settling down with a nice house and a white picket fence?”

He chuckled at her words and shook his head. “Of course not. What did I ever think, you would go insane within a week.” She chose not to respond to that and they lapsed into silence once more until they had boarded the Elbrus. “You know; I can see myself as an Admiral’s husband. It has a nice ring to it.”

She faltered in her steps, coming to a stop just short of the lift to stare at him in surprise. “What?”

The Turian gave her a look that spoke of nothing but affection and he raised a hand to brush his talons over her cheek. “Then again, never mind. I read that it is custom to ask this kind of question in a romantic moment so just forget I ever said anything.”

At a loss once more, she simply continued to eye him, trying to ignore the way her chest seemed suddenly so incredibly tight. Only when he gently pushed her to keep moving, mumbling a gentle ‘Come on’ did she manage to pull herself together enough to continue on their way to the medbay.

 

The next days passed in a blur, rushing past her before she had the chance to properly grasp them. The Normandy’s unexpected arrival had delayed them in their schedule to return to earth but it didn’t take very long for Hackett to announce that they would be on their way as soon as the ship was deemed fit for the journey. It left Shepard restless. She had handed in her request to be transferred and it was up to the Elbrus’ doctor to approve or not. She’d talked to all of her crew members, her friends, ensuring that they all remained firm in their decision to stay with her. She’d expected Tali to want to return to the fleet and she knew that Liara longed to see Thessia again, to help rebuild. And yet they both told her that as long as she would have them on the Normandy, they would stay at her side. Miranda complimented her on her progress with the therapy, remarking that she seemed to have found a strength she hadn’t showed before. It was still hell but Shepard knew that the only way to get the Normandy back was to clench her teeth and fight. The scientist hadn’t replied to her question whether she too would join them on their ship but she didn’t seem too averse to the thought.

It was almost a week later when Hackett called her up to his quarters once more. He was at his desk, motioning for her to sit when she stepped through the door. “I’m giving you back the Normandy,” he finally said after a moment of silence and Shepard felt her heart leap in her chest.

It was everything she’d hoped for. “Thank you, sir.” He nodded and she found that despite their fight having come to an end, the same exhaustion still lingered on his features that had taken root in her mind. It was that sort of fatigue that couldn’t be cured by any amount of sleep. She wondered if they would carry it around with them for the rest of their days or if by some miracle they would find a way to shake it off.

“You’re still not cleared for duty but Miss Lawson insisted that it would be beneficial for your recovery to have you return to more familiar surroundings. I agree with her, you took a lot of damage but it hasn’t impaired your ability to command. We will return to earth to get the necessary repairs done but once you’re back on your feet I want you to take command of what’s left of the first and third fleet. We need to show our people that we’re not planning on sitting idly on the spoils of our victory. The Normandy would make for a good flagship; don’t you think?”

Shepard’s mouth was dry and she had to clear her throat before she could reply. “Absolutely, sir.” She thanked him again and he waved it away. They spent the rest of the meeting discussing the various issues that had popped up, both political and concerning the lack of Alliance command. It would take a while to fill up the void the battle had torn into the military hierarchy but then again rebuilding always took its time and there was so much that had been sacrificed in the fight against the reapers.

She hurried to return to her quarters once she was dismissed. Stuffing the few things she had on the ship into her old duffel bag, she hesitated for a moment before she picked up the knitted sweater. She’s considered sending it back to the Trafalgar with a ‘thank you’ note but for some reason she felt unwilling to part with it. Once she had it all together, she manoeuvred the bag onto her shoulder. It proved difficult with the crutches but she made it all the way to the lift before she stumbled over her own rebellious feet and dropped the luggage. Shepard let out a frustrated sigh before she bowed to pick it up again when a familiar hand beat her to it. “Let me.” Garrus slung the bag over his shoulder and offered her the same hand for support. She refused it with a shake of her head. It wasn’t like she didn’t enjoy having him around, she was overjoyed by it in fact, but she hated being treated like she was made of glass. She knew that he was trying to not let his worry rule his demeanour but it wasn’t the same as it had been before and that sprouted a nagging feeling of fear in her mind. It was an irrational fear, she knew that, yet it was too strong to ignore.

“So, I take it that means you’re returning to the Normandy.” Garrus didn’t seem the slightest bit put off by her action, simply stepping into the lift and waiting for her to join him before inputting their destination. There seemed to be something on his mind though, the expression on his face one of thoughtfulness when she looked up. She didn’t have to ask him what it was about because he leant in and murmured: “I’m not supposed to tell you this but I know you don’t like surprises so I thought I should warn you. It seems Liara has been busy putting together a little welcoming party for you. I told her you might not be up for it but she insisted that you deserve a proper celebration, after all we missed your promotion and all.”

Shepard sighed but couldn’t hide the way the corners of her mouth twitched in an almost smile. “Well, who am I to say no to a party.” She mumbled and gently bumped her shoulder against Garrus’ arm in a gesture of affection. “Thank you for telling me. Do you think you can keep them busy until I’ve taken a shower? I’m pretty sure I stink of sweat.”

He hummed, leaning down to brush his forehead against hers. “You smell fine to me. But I’ll do my best.” His breath fanned over her skin and his low voice sent a shiver down her spine. She opened her mouth, for a moment considering to invite him to join her but something kept her from uttering the words. So instead she moved to kiss his mandible, murmuring a ‘thank you’ before pulling back again. She remained quiet for the rest of the way, only thanking him again when he placed the bag on her bed and turned to leave. She felt drained, sitting on the edge of her bed for a few moments before she managed to drag herself to the bathroom. Her reflection in the mirror stared back at her accusingly and it made her realise exactly what had kept her from asking Garrus to stay. She was afraid, afraid that he would reject her. He had been caring and loving ever since he’d returned, not once really speaking about how he had been those past months as to not trouble her while she was still fighting her own issues. It was exactly that what instilled this fear in her, the way he seemed almost distant despite his remaining close to her, the way he his touches had been nothing but platonic, his kisses careful. The thought settled heavily on her shoulders, forcing her to lean against the wall as she feared that her legs would give out underneath her. It was this, her condition, the way her body just wouldn’t obey her the way it was supposed to that made her feel afraid. Shepard knew that he loved her but she feared that he would reject her for her own sake, worried about hurting her.

She swallowed around the lump in her throat and pulled herself together, activating the shower and letting the hot water wash off the reminders of the therapy session. It was heaven for her aching muscles and she found herself settling on the floor with her back to the wall. Closing her eyes, she let the warmth relax her muscles, resting her forehead on her knees and focusing on taking deep breaths. Only when she felt a slight dizziness invade her head, she fought to stand up. She hurried to wash her hair and skin before turning off the water. She left the bathroom wrapped in one of those large towels she’d come to love, limping over to the armour locker. Her fingers brushed against the black dress that Liara had chosen for her a smile crept onto her lips when she remembered the evening at the casino. It was the only time she’d actually worn it, aside from their undercover mission, talked into it by her best friend because according to the Asari she couldn’t show up to a date with her boyfriend in her uniform. Shepard had objected but in the end admitted that it had been worth it just for the way Garrus had looked at her.

The dress remained in the locker as she picked up the off-duty uniform that had become almost a second skin to her since she’d joined the Alliance. She was more comfortable like this and she doubted any of her friends expected anything else from her. Pride pulling at her mind, she left one of the crutches behind, leaning heavily on the other one as she made her way to the observation deck. She was greeted by a cloud of chatter that only died down when Tali spotted her in the door and hastily left her seat in order to pull her further into the room. “Shepard! I am so glad you are officially Commander of this ship again I did not think I could stand one more day as acting Captain. It is not as glorious as I imagined, everyone always wants something and I had to ask Joker and Garrus about so many things. I honestly don’t know how you’re doing it.” She shook her head but interrupted her rambling, when Liara joined them, wrapping one arm around Shepard’s waist.

“Sit with us.” The Asari commanded and before Shepard could object, she was manoeuvred to one of the couches. Most of the space was already taken, with her friends gathered and even Joker having chosen a spot at the bar. She had barely sat down when Samantha appeared, pressing a drink into her hand and leaving a peck on her cheek. It was a habit she had picked up during their short leave on the Citadel after Shepard had assured her that it she was completely fine with it. It felt good to be surrounded by familiar faces again and she found herself falling easily into the light-hearted chatter and banter. With Liara and Tali at her sides, James throwing the usual innuendos her way and Joker and Steve arguing over the pool table, the time passed all too quickly. Somehow her glass was never quite empty, the alcohol making her feel pleasantly buzzed and her gaze wandered to Garrus more often than not. Their eyes locked and she felt heat creeping up her skin, only able to tear herself away from the sight for a few minutes at a time when someone addressed her.

The evening was like a healing balm for her raw insides, the presence of her friends filling her with a warmth that made even the void in her chest appear less empty. She didn’t exactly know what happened to have her stumbling across the room and falling into Garrus’ lap, probably the alcohol paired with James’ comment that as an Admiral she was supposed to act entirely professional. Something that she obviously had to disprove. There was no need to act professional in front of these people, this family that would follow her to the depths of hell if she only asked them to. It was Liara who first announced that she was going to bed and dragging a complaining Tali with her whose words were slurred beyond comprehension. Steve was next and James followed him after a few moments. EDI reminded Joker that he had only a few hours left until his next shift on the bridge and the pilot left with a tormented groan about how ‘this AI ruins all of my fun’. It made Shepard huff out a breath because he was still so obviously smitten with his synthetic companion that his words didn’t carry the tiniest bit of irritation. Samantha had fallen asleep on the other couch, curled up under the blanket Liara had draped over her. Her light snoring was soon the only sound in the silence of the room.

Shepard sighed, leaning back against Garrus and enjoying the way his arms tightened their hold around her. She closed her eyes and listened to the hum of his subvocals, wondering if she would ever be able to figure out what they were trying to tell her. “Falcon.” He finally breathed and there was something lacing his voice that had her look up in concern. The thoughtful expression was back, paired with something that cut deep into her chest.

“What is it?” She whispered, her fingers coming up to trace his scars.

He hesitated for a little moment, then lowered his head until he could bring their foreheads together. “Tali repaired my omni-tool.”

It took her a few seconds to understand what his words implied. Then she remembered the nights she’d spent writing him, pouring all of her longing and pain into words that she thought would never be received. “Oh.”

“I read your messages,” he continued, his talons drawing intricate patterns onto her back. She took a deep breath, his words clearing her head like a bucket of ice cold water but she didn’t dare to interrupt him as he kept talking. “I shouted at them to turn back, I told them that you had to be out there still and that we needed to go back to get you. But it was too late. We couldn’t turn back. EDI dropped dead after the shockwave hit us, EDI dropped dead and the ship’s systems failed. I don’t know how Joker made it but he brought us down on that planet before everything went dark. I blamed him, you know. I blamed him for leaving you behind and I blamed Kaidan for telling him to. I was angry at them, I was angry at you for playing the hero again and putting everyone else before you, for dying. I blamed myself for not being stronger, for letting you send me- us away. I knew I wasn’t the only hurting but I didn’t even think about them. I only thought about myself, that I should’ve been there with you. I couldn’t accept that you were…” He hesitated, resting his head on her shoulder. “I didn’t want to believe it but there was no way you could’ve survived. And there was no Cerberus to bring you back this time. I don’t know how the others put up with me, I couldn’t face them. I locked myself in your cabin for days, thinking that this way I could pretend for a bit longer. But all I could see was how empty it all was without you. The bed smelled like you and I wasn’t sure if it made me feel better or worse. Turians don’t usually dream but I dreamt of you. When I closed my eyes you were there with me but every time I woke up the reality of it all was worse, unbearable. I knew I should’ve been at your side through all of it, I should’ve died with you. I couldn’t think of a way to go on without you.”

His voice broke and Shepard found herself shaking, tears stinging in her eyes as she continued to run her fingers over his fringe, trying not to let her mind pull her down into that dark place again. But she needed to hear this, knew that he had to get it out of his system, no matter how painful it was to hear. “I had no hope of ever finding happiness again. Liara pulled me out of my self-pity. She learnt a lot from you, showed up in the cabin one day after overriding the locks and then dragging me down to medbay to have Chakwas take care of my injuries. She forced me to eat and walk around the ship. I’m pretty sure I would’ve gone insane without her. A month passed and I finally had to admit that you were truly gone this time. It was worse than the first time you died, back when I hadn’t yet realised how much I loved you. But this time I knew how it was to be with you. I could imagine a future together with you and it was all gone before we even got a chance to try. Liara was the one who kept us all together, even though she had been closer to you than most of them. She told me that in all of her years you were the first person she’d ever fallen in love with. She wanted to honour you, give you a proper farewell since we didn’t know if there would be a funeral. There were no speeches, no talk of memories and the good old days. I’m pretty sure none of us would’ve gotten a word out even if we tried. We added your name to the memorial and it felt as if I had pinned my heart to that wall.

"There was nothing to go on for. I breathed because my body kept telling me to, ate and slept because Liara reminded me that you would want me to keep fighting. I kept remembering your words but I couldn’t find comfort in them. You said I would never be alone but I felt more alone than ever before. But I knew that I couldn’t give up, I couldn’t disappoint you again. By that time, we were back on our way to meet with the rest of the fleet. I spent the days helping out with the repairs were I could and the nights listening to your old audio logs. I got drunk with Tali and spent hours talking about you with Liara. Sometimes the others would join us, Joker, Steve, Kaidan… He still loves you, you know.”

Shepard frowned at that, remembering the way Garrus had pulled her closer after Kaidan had hugged her upon their return. She’d wondered about that but she’d never thought that the man still had feelings for her after everything. She’d considered herself being the one who had suffered more from the way they had ended things on Horizon. Obviously noticing her surprise, the Turian hummed, brushing his mouth against her neck. “I’ve never really liked him but I learnt a lot about him the last weeks. He cares a lot about you and I can’t blame him for that. I think we grew even closer over your death than we had when you were still alive. Somehow we made it, with the ship broken and none of our communication systems working. When we finally had the Elbrus on our scanners I thought that I’d never been so relieved to see an Alliance ship before. It was more than that, it felt right somehow. I didn’t know why until General Hackett asked all of us to the debriefing room. When he said that ‘the Admiral’ would be joining us soon I expected to see one of the Captains we’d met before, I even got as far as to think that it could be Anderson, after all we didn’t know that he’d been on the Citadel with you. And then it was you instead. I thought I was dreaming.”

She breathed out a sigh, gently taking his face in her hands and forced him to look at her. “You’re not dreaming.” Her voice was more firm than she expected, determination rushing through her like a wave. They’d make this work, she promised herself, bringing their mouths together for a kiss. His arms tightened around her, blunted talons digging into her back through the fabric of her uniform. She clung to him, trying to convey all that she couldn’t put into words. The kiss left her dizzy, reminded her just how quickly Garrus had taken to this unfamiliar gesture of affection. His hands wandered to her waist, pulling her closer as their tongues tangled in a dance that lacked nothing in grace. Slightly out of breath, she finally pulled back, her fingers instinctively finding that sensitive spot at the back of his neck that made his chest rumble with a low purr. “Garrus.” She warned him, breath hitching when his tongue flicked over her earlobe.

He didn’t seem inclined to listen, gently nipping her neck as his hands continued to stroke over her sides. “There’s another thing that bothers me,” he murmured and the tone of his voice twisted her insides deliciously. “About that other Turian. What was his name- Quintus.”

Shepard huffed out a breathy laugh, her fingers digging into the sides of his neck as his teeth found the exposed skin of her throat. “Are you jealous, Vakarian?”

Garrus hummed biting down ever so carefully but hard enough to draw a gasp from her lips. “How could I not if I had to read about my girlfriend inviting another man into her bed.”

His words sent a shiver through her body, chest throbbing with heat both from the pure affection rushing through her veins and the desire sparking in her loins. “I merely entertained the thought. But he was too sweet, you know, I prefer my Turians to be ‘all around bad boys’.”

“Mmh. True, you need someone who can keep up with the great Commander Shepard. It’s a good thing I’m here then.”

Her lips pulled into a mischievous smile and the words were out of her mouth before she could actually think them through. “You going to make good on that, Garrus? Or is it all promises because then I might have to go find someone else.”

He growled, one hand gripping her thigh as the other found the back of her neck to pull her into a bruising kiss. Trembling, she could do nothing but hold onto him, losing herself in the sensation of their tongues gliding against each other, of his fingers on her leg, wandering dangerously close to her lap. Her body shuddered against his, her previously so coherent train of thoughts threatening to escape her grasp. Shepard wished herself closer, the urge to wrap her legs around him invading her mind with a force that made it hard to focus on anything else. She wanted- needed to feel him against her, surround her with his warmth, invade her. Breathing laboured, she finally found the strength to break off, fingers meekly pushing against his chest. Her voice hitched, words caught in a moan as his merciless hand inched upwards, pressing against her centre. She barely managed to catch the groan that threatened to escape her throat, trying to remember why this was a bad idea. “Garrus. This isn’t the appropriate place…”

Garrus didn’t reply immediately, his mouth returning to that spot on her throat that he had been tormenting earlier, sharp teeth worrying but never breaking the skin. “To hell with appropriate.”

She groaned, fingernails scratching over the plates of his armour. Oh, she was tempted to just give in, there was nothing she wanted more than to surrender and have him right here and then. But aside from the dozens of regulations they would be violating, there was still Samantha sleeping soundly on the other couch and she really had no love for voyeurism, be the audience conscious or not. Honestly, she was pretty sure Samantha wouldn’t forgive her if she woke up to find them in the middle of something she never wanted to see. Firmly pushing herself away, she shifted to escape his teasing fingers. He huffed out a disgruntled noise that pulled her lips into a sheepish grin and when he looked up she could see the same hunger in his eyes that threatened to consume her. “We could just throw her out,” he muttered, sighing at the disapproving look she gave him in return. “I waited so long, you better not leave me hanging,” he threatened but there was something else in his voice that had her breath catch in her lungs, something in the way his subvocals dropped to an almost inaudible level.

“Like hell,” she only replied, trying her best to calm her hammering heart. “You have yet to live up to your promises.” She forced herself to her feet, reaching for the crutch and ignoring the way her back complained at the sudden movement. He was at her side in a second, hand firmly at her waist, holding on too possessively to be a mere support. But she didn’t object, hell, she wanted him just as badly. Her skin was tingling, heat pooling between her legs even without his hand there.

She had no idea just how they had made it to the lift, quietly thanking the Alliance for deciding to keep the Normandy running on a skeleton crew. With the corridors deserted, they didn’t run into anyone who could see their Admiral in this state, undoubtedly completely messed up, hair and uniform out of order. Garrus cornered her in the lift, the short time that it took them to get to the upper deck just enough to steal another passionate kiss. He didn’t have the patience to watch her limp across her quarters, simply picking her up once the door swished shut behind them. Shepard’s arms wound around his neck, holding on tightly while her lips brushed over the leathery skin of his throat. The crutch clattered to the ground, abandoned and meaningless when he carried her over to the bed. He laid her down carefully, betraying the haste in his movements, as he worked on getting rid of his armour. Her eyes tracked his every moment, tongue flicking to chase the taste of their kiss on her lips.

Thinking back, it was funny how strange the sight of his naked body had been to her at first, Garrus being the first Turian to share her bed, it had taken her some time to learn his body like the maps she’d studied for her planet side missions. Now, when he joined her on the sheets, covering her body with his own, she couldn’t think of a sight that could fuel the fire inside her quite like this, a groan escaping her lips at the feeling of his erected cock pressing against her thigh. Even through the layers of cloth she could feel the heat of his body, soaking through her skin and seeping into her very being. Garrus kissed like a dying man, devouring her as best as he could as his hands travelled over her sides. Shepard found herself at a loss, unable to do anything but hold onto him, fingers searching the gaps between his plates to tease his skin with feather light touches. There was no use in denying that she’d missed this, the feeling of him above her, his breath hot on her skin, as his talented fingers made short work of her uniform. She’d joked about how quickly he’d learnt to rid her of her clothing faster than even she herself could and the expression on his face had been nothing but smug, deep voice ticking her ear as he murmured that there were few things he enjoyed more.

Shepard arched into his touch as his blunted talons scratched over her exposed belly. His teeth found her collarbone, nibbling and biting until she knew for sure that she’d bear the marks of their coupling around for the next weeks. He shifted his attention to her breasts once he’d rid her of the restraining bra. He’d once told her how much he had to restrain himself with her because her skin was so much easier to break than that of Turian females, just a tad too much pressure and it would break but she couldn’t say that she minded it. His sharp teeth grazed her nipple, worrying the skin until it was almost too much but still so _good._ Garrus took his time, encircling the hardened nub with his tongue to soothe the ache of his bite before turning to pay the same attention to the second one. His hands traced a hot path over her sides to her waist, only moving to tug at her panties when he was satisfied with his work on her breasts. She groaned, throwing her head back when one of his fingers brushed against her clit. And god, there were few things she’d choose over having him continue his torturously slow pace, going down on her like he sometimes did until she was reduced to a quivering mess but right now she couldn’t take it. He was right, they’d waited for so long and she thought she would surely go insane if she had to wait any longer to feel him inside of her.

“Garrus,” she breathed, voice more pleading than she had intended as she reached out for him.

The look he gave her in return was nothing but devilish, mandibles fluttering as he deliberately licked her juice off his finger. “What is it, sweetheart?”

In any other situation she would’ve reminded herself that two could play this game but she could see his resolve cracking, the raw need in his stiff shoulders and darkened eyes. Somehow the smart response that her mind came up with got lost somewhere on the way to her mouth. “Garrus, please.”

He growled, the sound resonating in her bones. It seemed to have done the trick as he moved up to meet her lips in a hungry kiss. “I so love to hear you beg.” He rumbled and her reply was swallowed by the embarrassingly loud moan wrenched from her throat, as he pushed inside her. The aching of her joins was swallowed by the electricity running through her veins as she wrapped her legs around him, raising his hips to meet him. His hands found hers, fingers somehow fitting perfectly together, pinning them to the bed above her head. She relished in the feeling of him filling her up entirely, the way his slow, strong thrusts shook her to the core and threatened to undo her. If she had feared that he would be too careful, too gentle, too hesitant, he proved her wrong once more. They kissed until her lungs were screaming for air, skin covered in a thin sheen of sweat as his chest plates scraped deliciously against her breasts. She clung to his hands, teeth finding his neck to mirror the scars that his had left on her shoulder. Even though she couldn’t break the skin, she felt him shiver, burying himself inside her. She could tell the exact moment when he lost control, the heat building up between them too much to keep up the slow, languid pace. Her body complained, pain mixing with pleasure in her system as he drove into her.

Her voice broke, his name a whisper on her lips, a chant that mingled with their heavy breathing. The sensations overwhelmed her, crashed into her like a wave as he buried his face in the crook of her neck. He untangled one of his hands from hers to run it along her sides to her lap. And oh, did he know how to take her apart, teasing her clit with just the right pressure to tear every coherent thought from her mind. His mouth was at her ear, voice tainted with pleasure and subvocals humming a serenade as he commanded: “Come for me.” Shepard couldn’t tell if it was the pressure of his finger against her, the feeling of him hitting just the right spots inside her or his words that tore down the dam. The intensity of her orgasm took her breath away, left her gasping, his name still on her lips as she clung to him for dear life.

The sting of his teeth on her skin did nothing to sober her, pleasure still rippling through her, as she moved to meet his last, desperate thrusts. Garrus stilled against her, her gasp joining the moan that was breathed against her skin.

They remained like this for what seemed like hours, unwilling to move as they rode out the last waves of pleasure. His tongue lapped at her neck, apologetically following the trace his teeth had left behind. Only when she the stinging pain in her muscles became too much, did she shift, gently pushing the Turian off her. He followed immediately, slipping out of her but still holding onto her hand.

“Falcon,” he murmured, once they had found a more comfortable position. His arm wrapped around her waist and his forehead pressed against hers, she could practically feel the emotions colouring the sound of his subvocals. It was the look on his face though that undid her, the affection engraved into his features, the awe and maybe pride that made her chest feel so incredibly tight but in a good way. She brushed her fingers over his colony markings, tracing the lines she had admired so often. He hummed, obviously contented and returned to drawing something onto her back that she couldn’t decipher. “I really do love you,” he muttered finally. “But there’s one more thing that’s bothering me.”

Shepard raised an eyebrow at that. “Tell me.”

The expression on his face was serious all of a sudden and he pulled back a bit in order to properly look her in the eye. “I want a rematch.”

She gave him a look of utter disbelief. “Already? I’m not sure my implants could take that…”

He chuckled, leaning in again to brush his mouth over her cheek. “Though I certainly wouldn’t object to another round, I’m talking about something else.”

Her eyebrow inched just the tiniest bit further up when he didn’t continue immediately. “Go on.”

“We have to find out who really is the better shot. Don’t think I’m letting you off the hook this easily.”

It took her a little moment to get what he was talking about. Laughter bubbling up in her chest, she shook her head, pressing her lips to his mouth plates in a sloppy kiss. “You’re on. But beware this time I might not let you win.”

Garrus huffed out a breath. “Hah! I hope you’ll still be this confident when I make you face the facts. You may be the galaxy’s greatest hero but you’re only its second best sniper.”

“We’ll see,” Shepard hummed, lips pulled into an exhausted smile. “We’ll see.”

 

 

It was strange being on the Citadel again, or rather what remained of it. It was still in orbit around earth, the repairs well underway and with the reappearance of the Keepers – one last, albeit harmless reminder of the Reapers – it would only take a couple of years to restore the most important parts. Through some miracle, Shepard couldn’t help but let the word ‘fate’ slip into her conscious, the Silversun strip was one of the areas that had taken the least damage. One of the remaining C-Sec officers had informed her that Anderson’s, _her_ apartment would be back in her hands before she knew it and she was honestly not sure what to think of it. On one hand she was glad, she’d collected the notes for Anderson’s biography that he had left scattered around the apartment before the battle, on the other hand she couldn’t bear to hand them in for publishing. She knew she owed it to him, to everyone who’d been close to him but at the same time it was the last thing that remained of him. She dared to call him one of her oldest friend, her mentor from the day she’d enlisted, a young, scared girl, only barely coping with the loss of her family and friends on Mindoir. It was his entry about her that she held onto the longest, those kind words. ‘I’m proud of you, child,’ he’d told her and it had been him more than anyone else who’d convinced her that she’d done good.

She swallowed the glum thoughts, thanking the Asari who had escorted her to what was left of the Presidium commons and telling her that she’d find the way on her own now. Her steps were light, as she only relied on the crutch for bad days now. The implants had integrated well into her body, only acting up when she overstrained her muscles. It would still take some time until she was back in top shape but she’d been cleared for duty and it was the most reassuring feeling to not only get her armour but also her weapons back. Her trusty Black Widow had been lost in the streets of London, yet she found that it took her almost no time to get used to the Mantis again. Miranda had insisted that it was a good thing too, as the recoil of the heavy rifle could prove too much for her body to handle anyway.

Garrus waited for her next to a slightly demolished sky car and she found her chest swelling with nostalgia as she approached him. The Turian greeted her with an expression that was at the same time fond and smug as he slipped one arm around her waist. “Now, are you ready to face your defeat?”

Shepard leant up on her tip-toes to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth, lips curling into a smile. “Bring it on, Vakarian.”

It wasn’t their spot on top of the Presidium that he took them to, most likely because it had fallen victim to the Crucible’s destructive force but it was close enough. For a moment, she let her gaze wander over the ruins that had once been the most beautiful space station. Even after almost a year it still felt strangely surreal to see all of this, though it didn’t come close to the way the sight of earth made her heart ache these days. She wondered if Garrus felt the same way thinking about Palaven, knowing that it would surely take more than a lifetime to have it resemble its old glory again.

“I won’t miss this time,” she warned him but Garrus only gave her a look that spoke ‘you will lose’ more clearly than any word could. “Now then.” Shepard picked up the Mantis, weighing it in her hands for a moment, before peeking through the scope. “Shall we begin?”

They both took several shots, each one more difficult than the previous as the other did the very best to throw the decoy as far as they could. Neither of them missed and she was almost willing to call it a draw, when he handed her the rifle once more. “If you hit this one, I’ll give up. If you don’t, I win. No rematch.”

Shepard raised an eyebrow but didn’t waste any further thought on his sudden decision. “Alright, fine with me. I sure hope you know that I won’t miss.” There was something in the way his mandibles fluttered, in the way he cocked his head just the slightest bit that clearly told her that he was planning something. Determined to not let him get away with it, she hoisted up the sniper rifle, forced herself to breathe deeply and evenly and waited. She’d just spotted the target through the scope, finger already tightening its hold on the trigger, as she felt his breath ghost over her ear. His voice a deliciously deep rumble, he murmured: “Will you marry me?”

“What?” Surprised, she pulled the rifle just the tiniest bit to the left before she could pull the trigger, missing the target by an inch. She blinked, turning around to level Garrus with a mock-accusing glare though her voice was coloured with obvious amusement. “You cheated!”

The Turian hummed, his subvocals vibrating with satisfaction as he picked the rifle from her hands. “No, I won. Fair and square. It’s official now, I _am_ the better shot.”

Shepard huffed out a laugh, shaking her head at him. Yet before she could open her mouth to say any more, he took a step towards her, hands reaching out to gently cup her face. A serious expression settled on his features though the glint of mischief remained in his eyes. “Now then, talking about official things, let me ask you again. Will you, Falcon Shepard, second best sniper in the galaxy, marry me?”

She exhaled audibly, lips pulling into a rare, wide smile. Even if the question had come as a surprise there was really only one answer she could give him: “Yes.”

 

 

“Depressurising. The Admiral is aboard, X.O. Alenko stands relieved.”

The familiar lights and the noises of the ship embraced her like a warm blanket, drawing her in and reminding her of how she’d missed the Normany despite only having been on leave for a couple of weeks. “No place like home,” Garrus said behind her and she could only agree. He still insisted that one day they would retire to somewhere warm to live out the rest of their lives far away from the Alliance, their responsibilities and duties, yet he seemed more than happy to remain aboard their ship. No, it wasn’t the ship that kept him around, she thought to herself and she wondered if the thought would ever cease to amaze her.

EDI’s voice interrupted her musings: “Welcome back, Admiral Shepard.”

“How was the honeymoon?” Joker chimed in. “I sure hope you’re planning to tell me all the juicy details.”

Garrus answered in her stead, his shoulder brushing against her as they made their way through the CIC side by side. “Exhausting.”

The pilot whistled and Shepard could practically hear the grin on his face. “So the place with room service was a good idea? And the vids? I knew it! You’re an animal, Vakarian, I’m surprised our dear Admiral can still walk.”

The woman in question cleared her throat audibly, though she had no plans on reprimanding her subordinate for this very inappropriate choice of words. “You’d be surprised, Joker.”

“Oooh. Tell me more.”

Shepard glanced at the Turian to find him looking at her, mandibles fluttering with amusement. “Here I was looking forward to having my wife all for myself but then this crazy fan of hers shows up, stalks her for a week, almost shoots me and blows up a generator just to get our attention. It all ends in a hostage situation, there’s mercenaries, a bomb that needs defusing and more guns than you should expect on a backwater planet like this. The hotel manager was very grateful that we handled everything without too much collateral damage but he seemed very relieved to see us go again. He drove us to the docks in his personal sky car.”

The pilot was quiet for a little moment, obviously trying to figure out whether or not Garrus was joking. “You can’t be serious.”

“Dead serious,” she only said before leaning into Garrus to whisper: “You’re exaggerating. He got nowhere close to shooting you.”

He hummed. “Only because my faithful wife protected me ably.” Oh, she was fairly certain she wouldn’t get tired of him calling her that anytime soon.

Joker groaned into the comm. “I know I’m the one who asked for details but you two should really find someplace else to flirt.”

The Turian chuckled but chose to not respond, merely following Shepard to the galaxy map.

“Admiral. The fleet is awaiting your orders,” EDI announced matter-of-factly.

Garrus rested an arm around her waist. “Now, where are we going next?”

Lips curling into a smile, she turned her head to look at her husband. “You up for some action?”

His facial plates shifted into his tell-tale almost grin. “Always.”

Her fingers flew over the controls, pulling up coordinates and reports before forwarding them to the pilot.

“Joker, take us out.”

 

**The End**

 


End file.
